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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578077">Heroes and Villains</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightShade/pseuds/LadyKnightShade'>LadyKnightShade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Blue Defender [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Megamind (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Aftermath of Violence, Bad Good Guy, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Detectives, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Intrigue, Investigations, Mild S&amp;M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Or is that Good Bad Guy?, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Superheroes, True Love, Violence, Xenophilia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:35:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightShade/pseuds/LadyKnightShade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly a year has passed since the Ares case, and all Roxanne and Megamind want is to be left in relative peace as they plan their wedding.  Unfortunately, the U.S. Defenders' League has nominated Metro City to host its annual conference, and when a visiting hero is found murdered, suspicion immediately falls on the former supervillain.  As both their upcoming nuptials and the threat of League justice loom large, Megamind and Roxanne must prove the blue alien’s innocence—and catch the real killer—before it’s too late.  WARNINGS: Language, sex, violence, and rock n' roll!  I don't own Megamind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Megamind &amp; Roxanne Ritchi, Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Blue Defender [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Megamind_Kink</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Unexpected News</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>DISCLAIMER:</b> The film Megamind and all characters therein are the intellectual property of DreamWorks. This fan fiction was written entirely for entertainment purposes, and I in no way profit from it. All original characters in this work are fictional, and similarities to any person or persons are completely unintentional.</p><p><b>AUTHOR'S NOTES:</b> This is a sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27485170/chapters/67204216">Daylight and Dark</a>, and contains characters and plot points introduced in that work, so I definitely recommend reading it first.  However, it's still possible to follow this narrative on its own.  </p><p> </p><p>  <b>I love to hear what readers think, and learn what I'm doing well or need to improve!  Feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated!  Thank you!</b></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p class="western">“<em>Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered.<br/></em><em>The best. The best and the worst. And a few who were a bit of both.”</em></p><p class="western">                                                                                                                                                             ― <em>George R. R. Martin</em></p><p class="western"> </p><hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Megamind shifted the invisible car into park and disengaged the stealth mode, stretching as he swung himself out. He moved around to open the passenger door and offered a hand to his fiancé.</p><p class="western">“I sincerely hope,” the blue alien informed her, “that I never have to see another legal document in my entire life.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne Ritchi laughed. “Poor you. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but marriage certificates are a thing.”</p><p class="western">“Ugh. Don’t remind me. Why must law-abiding citizens endure such agonies?” he joked. “Being villainous was so much more convenient.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, I know! Signing papers should be considered cruel and unusual torture!” She declared with all the false sincerity she could muster.</p><p class="western">“Don’t forget, we had to date them, too!”</p><p class="western">“The horror!" she lost the battle against the mirth bubbling in her chest.  "It really ought to be illegal!”</p><p class="western">“Excuse me, but no it shouldn’t! Then I would have been compelled to do it for years!”</p><p class="western">“Only to other people.”</p><p class="western">“I may have been evil, Miss Ritchi, but I was never <em>that</em> evil.”</p><p class="western">“Still, this was worth it, wasn’t it?”</p><p class="western">Her lover wrapped both arms around her, cupping her round bottom in his hands. “Extremely. Just think: we are officially parents!”</p><p class="western">“That we are.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “But I have to admit, I’m glad that ordeal is over.”</p><p class="western">“Why, do you mean to say you didn’t <em>enjoy</em> the hours of paperwork, the frankly invasive background checks, and the endless legal complications?!” He leaned back a little to grin at her.</p><p class="western">She laughed again and gave his shoulder a light, playful slap, careful to avoid the spikes. They weren’t really as sharp as they looked, but they <em>did</em> contain electrodes that produced a force-dampening energy shield. Roxanne had learned the hard way that, when that forcefield was engaged, touching multiple spikes at once could deliver quite a shock.</p><p class="western">“I really thought the fingerprinting was going to be more of an issue given, you know, your past activities,” she informed him. “I was just waiting for that clerk to have hysterics.”</p><p class="western">“That would have been entertaining,” her lover admitted, giving her a smirk that still held an edge of villainy. “How tragic that your hopes were disappointed! Gloves,” he added, moving to display one black leather-clad hand. “A supervillain’s best friend. Besides his fish, of course.”</p><p class="western">“Of course,” she agreed. “You know, my favorite part was still that elderly judge questioning <em>every minuscule aspect</em> of our personal lives. What was that about? I mean, the case was supposed to be about proving Johnson was an unfit parent.”</p><p class="western">“I remain convinced that the Honorable Robert Ludwick was getting his jollies,” Megamind teased.</p><p class="western">“You’re terrible,” Roxanne rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the humor out of her voice.</p><p class="western">“Why else would he ask so much about our <em>private</em> <em>activities?</em> Of course,” he smoothed a hand down her side, an enticing grin stretching his lips, “I can hardly blame him when such a beautiful goddess was standing before him.”</p><p class="western">“Flirt.”</p><p class="western">“But an honest one.”</p><p class="western">“Uh-huh,” her expression was half knowing playfulness and half teasing disbelief.</p><p class="western">“Now, Miss Ritchi, would the Defender of Metrocity <em>lie?"</em> he chuckled.</p><p class="western">“He’d <em>better</em> be telling the truth about that,” she gave him another wry smile.</p><p class="western">“My Dear, I assure you that I have never been more earnest in my life,” Megamind told her, his green eyes filling with tender sincerity. “You're beautiful and brilliant, and I love you, Roxanne.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too,” she nuzzled his neck, and he made a contented purring growl.</p><p class="western">They remained like that for a long moment, basking in one another’s nearness.</p><p class="western">“I do agree with you, Sweetheart,” the blue hero said at last. “Worthwhile though this endeavor has been, I’m glad it’s over. Who knew that the adoption process could be such a… Well, such a <em>process!"</em></p><p class="western">“They’re only trying to ensure children are going to safe homes, I suppose. I can’t really blame them.”</p><p class="western">“And yet the same people would have gladly let her stay with an abusive blackguard like Johnson just because her mother had the bad judgment to marry the man.” He shook his large head. “A part of me still feels I should have just let Ares have him.”</p><p class="western">“After the scene he made in court last month, I almost want to agree with you. Is it weird to say I’m actually glad he did that, though?”</p><p class="western">“Not at all. He certainly shot himself in the foot, metaphor-ick-ally speaking,” Megamind agreed.</p><p class="western">Roxanne couldn’t help but smile; her fiancé was forever mispronouncing words—sometimes on purpose to make her laugh— and it was something she had grown oddly fond of. It was just so… him. She almost hated having to correct him, as she did now, but he had asked her to do it, explaining that, as the local Defender, he had a responsibility to both represent their city well and set a good example.</p><p class="western">“After all,” he’d said, “the children of Metrocity look up to me now, even emulate me. It’s my duty to make sure their favorite genius is a good influence.”</p><p class="western">The blue hero had started openly spearheading reading and science programs for the same reason. His sincerity on the subject made Roxanne adore him all the more. So, in the past several weeks, after she endured morning fight training with her lover, he had begun taking his turn as the student for her linguistic lessons. The alien jokingly claimed their sparring sessions were by far the less painful of the two.</p><p class="western">“I think the judge was leaning toward awarding us custody anyway,” Megamind was saying, “but Johnson’s temperamental display sealed the deal.” He sighed. “Even so, he deserves much worse than he got. I almost wish I could have let him have it, and I mean that in the most 1940’s mobster movie way possible.”</p><p class="western"><a id="__DdeLink__4568_3487619998" name="__DdeLink__4568_3487619998"></a>“True, but it wouldn’t have been, you know—”</p><p class="western">“Very heroic. Yes, I do know. In some ways, being a supervillain really was much simpler.”</p><p class="western">She stepped back to give him an ironic look and rest one hand on her cocked hip. “You’re not longing for the bad old days, are you?”</p><p class="western">The hero chuckled. “Hardly!” he assured her, taking her in his arms again and pressing a kiss against her forehead. “While it may be more complicated, being the Good Guy is also infinitely more rewarding.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, really?” she leaned in to peck him on the lips and gave him his favorite knowing smile. “And how, exactly, would that be?”</p><p class="western">His expression shifted to the familiar troublemaker’s grin that always made her heart flutter. “For one thing,” he said, embracing her tighter, “I have this stunningly gorgeous woman in my arms, and for some unaccountable reason she is madly in love with me.”</p><p class="western">“She is,” Roxanne kissed him again, more thoroughly, before adding: “I can think of quite a few very good reasons why that might be. Starting with your being the Incredibly Handsome Heroic Genius and Master of All Sensuality.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed,” he purred, pulling her closer still. She could feel something hard pressing into her stomach. It wasn’t his De-Gun. “Flattery will get you everywhere, my Dear.”</p><p class="western">“Including into those tight pants of yours?” she reached up to caress the back of his large head.</p><p class="western">“Mmmm.  Especially there.” His wolfish grin grew, his eyes darkening with lust. “Well, now, Minion and our little Olivia are still at the zoo, and likely will be for hours yet,” he lifted a suggestive eyebrow. “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”</p><p class="western">They had arranged for their adopted daughter and Megamind’s faithful sidekick to spend the day at a special event called Young Explorers. Specialists and zoologists were giving a series of child-friendly talks and demonstrations, and there were educational activity centers set up as well as a National Geographic Kids documentary being screened. Knowing Olivia’s curious mind, the zoo staff would practically have to chase her out at closing time.</p><p class="western">“Oh, I don't know,” Roxanne, grinning at her fiancé, pretended to consider even as she felt desire filling her eyes. “Be bad?” she suggested in a voice that hid sultry promise below a thin veneer of sweet innocence.</p><p class="western">“Why, Miss Ritchi, what a fantastic idea,” the blue hero hummed, green eyes half-lidded, and leaned in to kiss his way up her neck, his goatee tickling her skin to make her breathlessly giggle.</p><p class="western">Since their completion of the Ares Case nearly a year before—or more precisely since their confrontations with a certain anti-alien fed during that investigation—the phrase had become both a code and something of an inside joke for the couple. B.B.A.D., pronounced “be bad,” stood for “big, blue alien dick.” Any reference to their sexual relationship had been guaranteed to make Agent Rickard nearly apoplectic with bigoted rage. As a result, the couple had begun pointedly referring to their intimacy every time the fed had become particularly nasty or aggressive, which had basically been any time Megamind was within his sight. It had made dealing with the unpleasant man almost fun.</p><p class="western">Enjoying that intimacy was, of course, more enjoyable still.</p><p class="western">“Oh… Do that again,” Roxanne crooned as her lover nipped delicately at the sensitive flesh just below her ear.</p><p class="western">Purring in his chest, Megamind complied. He moved even closer, pushing his lover gently but insistently backward until she was pinned between his solid warmth and the cool metal of the invisible car. One of his hands wandered up her side to cup her right breast, his thumb finding just enough space between their bodies to press and stroke her nipple through layers of clothing. Roxanne gasped, her own fingers sliding under his high collar to run gentle nails up the sensitive back of his neck.</p><p class="western">BTO’s Takin’ Care of Business split the air. This close, Roxanne could feel the vibration of her lover’s cell phone. With an annoyed sound, the blue hero fumbled in his pocket to silence the device.</p><p class="western">“Who is that?” Roxanne asked, her voice breathy.</p><p class="western">“The U.S. Defender’s League. They can wait,” he answered, peppering kisses along her jaw and across her throat to suck at the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck.</p><p class="western">“Do you… need to take that?” she asked between sighs as the phone rang again. “Is it about that stupid conference? I thought you… told them no.”</p><p class="western">The blue man, his mouth still busy, responded only with a grunt and another gentle bite. His lips found hers, demanding and passionate, and she responded to the pressure. When his tongue slipped in to caress her own and flick delightfully against the roof of her mouth, Roxanne practically melted into his embrace. The hero buried his long fingers in his lover’s hair. With a noise of displeasure, he released her long enough to unbuckle his gloves and drop them to the cement floor before returning his hands to his fiancé's short, soft tresses. Her own palms slid down his chest, around his narrow frame, and under his cloak. Her fingers had just found the zipper on the back of his shirt when they were disturbed again.</p><p class="western">“Bowg! Bowg!” One of the brainbots approached amid urgent, mechanical barking.</p><p class="western">Megamind made another frustrated sound in his throat.</p><p class="western">“Bowg! Bowg! Bowg!”</p><p class="western">“Daddy’s busy,” the hero half-growled, his breath hot against his lover’s lips, a note of mild warning in his voice.</p><p class="western">“BOWG!” The little cyborg insisted, and Roxanne felt her fiancé’s cloak move as a mechanical arm plucked at it.</p><p class="western">Megamind sighed. “Alright,” he groused, backing half a step away from Roxanne and turning to face the flying robot. “Fine. What is it?”</p><p class="western">The brainbot held up a small screen—one of the portable communication devices Megamind had invented—and Roxanne saw a familiar face.</p><p class="western">Clarissa Childers, former damsel and current secretary of the U.S. Defenders League, was a thin, matronly woman in her late-fifties. Her tidy salt-and-pepper bun, bifocal glasses, and bland no-nonsense blouses always made Roxanne think of an old-fashioned schoolmistress. Or maybe a particularly strict librarian. Except that Roxanne <em>liked</em> librarians. At any rate, everything about the woman screamed ‘prude.’</p><p class="western">Which was probably why Ms. Childer’s narrow features were displaying a more than usually disapproving expression. Roxanne’s russet-red lipstick might have been long-wearing, but it certainly wasn’t rub-proof, and a bit of the color had smeared across Megamind’s lips, turning his blue skin purple. His cheeks were flushed rosy lavender with passion, and the reporter couldn’t imagine she looked much better. Suddenly conscious of her mussed hair and her own hot cheeks, Roxanne doubted that anyone over the age of twelve would have any trouble divining just what she and her lover had been up to.</p><p class="western">“Defender Megamind,” the older woman said stiffly. “I’m terribly sorry to <em>interrupt</em>—” she didn’t sound sorry at all— “but I really do need to speak with you.”</p><p class="western">“Miss Childers,” Megamind said with admirable calmness. “What can I do for you?”</p><p class="western">The secretary sniffed through her long nose. She didn’t like being reminded of her unmarried status—something which Roxanne felt made the other woman rather petty and weak. Maybe that was unfair, but the secretary had displayed thinly-veiled hostility toward Megamind from the moment he had joined the League, probably due to his former position as a supervillain, and that inclined the reporter to dislike her in return.</p><p class="western">“While I’m <em>sure</em> you must have had a <em>very</em> important reason for not taking my call—”</p><p class="western">“Very important,” the blue hero assured her.</p><p class="western">Ms. Childers narrowed her eyes. “I think,” she said snidely, “that we may just have the tiniest difference in our definitions of ‘important.’ My concept of the word certainly doesn’t include <em>lewd behavior</em>.”</p><p class="western">Although fuming inside—<em>the stick up this woman’s ass must be at least three feet long!</em>— years as a television news correspondent enabled Roxanne to keep both her features and her tongue in check. She might harbor a distinct antipathy for Clarissa Childers, but she also knew the secretary had the power to make Megamind’s mandatory interactions with the Defender’s League completely miserable. And her lover needed the League, at least for now. Joining the organization had been one of the stipulations of his pardon, along with giving a few of his less dangerous inventions to the U.S. government.</p><p class="western">Like his fiancé, the blue hero could hold a poker face with the best of them when it was necessary, although in his case the skill was thanks to two decades of playing power games with the most dangerous people in Metro City. He kept his tone even and coolly polite as he said:</p><p class="western">“Perhaps we do. Personally, I happen to feel that spending time with the love of my life is extremely important. But, then, love doesn’t hold the same place in everyone’s regard,” the statement, although delivered without any emphasis or evident animosity, was another subtle taunt. “You are, of course, entitled to your own opinions. However, I doubt that’s what you wanted to talk about. I know you must be a busy woman, so I’ll ask again: what can I do for you?”</p><p class="western">There was little Ms. Childers could really say to that, but that didn’t stop her from trying.</p><p class="western">“I only mean that, as a Defender, you may find that you are expected to uphold a <em>certain standard</em> of behavior that, given your <em>history</em>, you may be unaccustomed to.”</p><p class="western">“I wasn’t aware that one of the qualifications for being a Defender was celibacy, nor—”</p><p class="western">“Of course it isn’t, although—”</p><p class="western">“<em>Nor</em>,” Megamind managed to keep his tone courteous while still raising it enough to talk over the secretary. “was I aware that there was anything inappropriate about kissing my bride-to-be in the privacy of my own home. But surely that isn’t the reason you’re contacting me. I will ask a third and final time, Miss Childers: <em>what can I do for you?"</em></p><p class="western">The older woman’s nostrils flared, but she couldn’t ignore the polite threat underlying the blue hero’s words— <em>state your purpose or I will end this conversation</em>— any more than she could continue her badgering without crossing the line between professional disdain and unreasonable rudeness. Roxanne had a sudden suspicion that the League’s calls must be recorded.</p><p class="western">“I am calling to inform you that the United States Defenders’ League has changed the venue for the 2012 annual conference,” she stated with stiff formality.</p><p class="western">“There must be some mistake, Miss Childers. You may recall that I have already informed you, twice, that I am unable to attend as my fiancé and I are in the midst of planning our wedding, and the conference will take place less than two months before our big day. Between that, the time-consuming legal complexities of officially adopting our ward, and the fact that I currently have no one who can protect Metrocity in my absence, it's completely impossible.”</p><p class="western">“And that is precisely why the League has decided to nominate Metro City as the location of this year’s conference. That should allow you to attend while still seeing to your other responsibilities.”</p><p class="western">Megamind had gone completely still. “Decided to… Come again?”</p><p class="western">“The Conference is one week long, March twenty-third through thirtieth. As the local Defender of the chosen city, you will, of course, be expected to secure a venue for the conference—”</p><p class="western">“Oh, <em>really?”</em></p><p class="western">“...As well as assist in arranging suitable accommodations and appropriate caterers. This is, after all, an honor,” she added pointedly. “The League hopes that this consideration will make your attendance easier.” The last statement sounded rehearsed, as if it was part of a script she repeated too often.</p><p class="western">“Easier,” Megamind’s rare temper was finally starting to simmer. “<em>Easier?</em> You’re kidding, right? I’ve said I can’t make it because I’m planning an important event, and their solution is to make me plan another?! <em>That’s</em> supposed to be <em>easier?!"</em></p><p class="western">“Defender Megamind! Really! Quite a few of your peers would be happy for this opportunity, and I can’t recall anyone ever being offered this chance after being a member for only a year!”</p><p class="western">Heaving a deep breath, the blue alien collected himself. “I understand, Miss Childers.” His voice had regained its cool equanimity, but there was still a hint of a growl around the edges. “I understand, and I’m not blaming you, but you have to see that this makes my life far more complicated than I really need it to be.” He rubbed a hand over his bald head. “I’m marrying the woman whom I loved from afar since high school; the woman who's had my heart, whether she knew it or not, for decades. I want to make her wedding the most brilliantly perfect day imaginable. I want to show this whole city—no, this whole <em>planet</em>—just how much she means to me. Most of all, I want to show <em>her</em>. And now the League is demanding that I take my focus away from that once-in-a-lifetime moment to help plan a meeting they’ll have every year.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind,” Roxanne touched his shoulder. When he turned toward her, she hugged him around his slim waist. “I know how much you love me. You know I do. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”</p><p class="western">Miss Childer’s made a soft harrumphing noise. The other two ignored her.</p><p class="western">“I know, Sweetheart,” the blue man leaned his cheek against his lover’s hair. “But this is really important to me. This is the only wedding either of us will ever have.” The hint of a chuckle warmed his tone. “When we’re a couple of old, tottering retirees— me forever grumbling about my bad back and you always shouting that I need to <em>speak up so that people can hear you, for Pete’s sake</em>— I want us to sit on your bedroom balcony looking through our wedding album and remembering it as one of the most fantastic days of our long lives.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne’s soft laugh was full of gentle wonderment and something almost like tears. “We’ll still hold hands, and I’ll kiss your cheek, even though you’ll be old and wrinkled, and I’ll be old and gray.”</p><p class="western">“I might even go bald!” he said with wide-eyed dramatics, running a blue hand over his hairless pate. Roxanne chortled.</p><p class="western">“Oh, I don’t know, Love,” she teased, her grin bright enough to glow. “Baldness might be a deal-breaker.”</p><p class="western">The hero’s laugh was musical, laced with the dark warmth of his old villainy. “Ah, well then, Miss Ritchi, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”</p><p class="western">“Goofball.”</p><p class="western">“Tease. But, seriously,” the humor dancing in his luminous green gaze shifted to something deeper and softer. “No matter how ancient we are, I’ll still look into those beautiful blue eyes of yours and see the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. I’ll still hold you in my arms and dance, even if it won’t be more than a slow shuffle by then.” His arms loosely encircled her middle. “We’ll only stop long enough to yell at the neighborhood children trespassing on our property.”</p><p class="western">The reporter’s chortle was fuller this time, and she embraced him back. “They’ve got it coming. Considering that the balcony overlooks the water, the stupid kids shouldn’t be out there anyway.”</p><p class="western">“Hey, you little whipper-snappers!” Megamind said in his best imitation of a querulous geriatric. “Get off my lake!”</p><p class="western">A sharp sound drew the couple’s attention back to the miniature screen. Miss Childers looked as if she'd just eaten an entire bag full of lemons, peels and all.</p><p class="western">“If you are quite done with the <em>unseemly</em> public display of affection,” she sniffed. “We do have some actual business to attend to.”</p><p class="western"><em>Jealous</em>, Roxanne’s insightful mind decided. <em>Definitely jealous. I thought so. I wonder if her heart was broken one too many times, or if she just never found love in the first place? </em></p><p class="western">The thought made the reporter distinctly uncomfortable; she would have preferred to remain free to dislike the secretary without the humanizing burden of empathy. She contented herself with the reminder that she could, at least, continue to disdain Ms. Childers’ rather anti-feminist attitude.</p><p class="western">
  <em>I mean, really, what kind of self-respecting woman lets the validation of a man, or lack thereof, determine her happiness? </em>
</p><p class="western">But a snide little voice inside her head whispered back: <em>That’s easy for you to say when you’re about to be married.</em></p><p class="western">Maybe that was true, but the reporter had her doubts. Two years ago she hadn't thought she was ever going to find her proverbial Mr. Right. While she was overjoyed that she'd fallen for Megamind, eternally grateful that he was a constant part of her existence, and, admittedly, no longer able to imagine herself without him, she steadfastly believed that if he had never come to this planet, she still would have looked for other ways to live a full life.  True, she might not have been as elated as she was now, but she certainly wouldn’t have simply given up and wallowed in lonely self-pity until she became so bitter that she hated the very sight of happiness.</p><p class="western"><em>Maybe Ms. Childers used to tell herself the same thing,</em> the voice suggested.</p><p class="western">Roxanne ignored it. She refused to even consider that this unpleasant person might have once had any similarity to herself. If that had been true, the secretary would be part of the Red Hat Society as well as various volunteer groups, maybe with a novel or two published. She would be more apt to wear whatever flamboyant garb struck her fancy than Ms. Childers’ perpetual starched white blouses, and would drink mimosas with Saturday brunch in defiance of doctors’ orders. This wasn’t the nineteenth century, after all. Romance wasn’t the only possible road by which women were permitted to seek contentment in life. But then, Roxanne also had to admit to herself, many women of Ms. Childers’ generation <em>had</em> still been raised to treat marriage like a life goal, as if remaining unwed made them some sort of failure. It was sad, really.</p><p class="western">“With all due respect,” Megamind was saying, “I really doubt that a hug shared <em>in</em><em> my own </em><em>Lair</em> qualifies as a public display of affection. But you’re right: we do have other matters to attend to. What else do I need to know about this… nomination?”</p><p class="western">Ms. Childers looked as if restraining herself from making another snappish remark ought to qualify her for some sort of Long-suffering Secretary Award. “I’ll be sending over a guest list along with notes about any dietary restrictions,” she said tersely.</p><p class="western">“What about information concerning the last time the Defenders’ League Conference was held in Metrocity? It would have been seven years ago, if I remember correctly,” the blue hero said. Roxanne knew beyond doubt that her lover recalled <em>exactly</em> when it had been. His memory was nearly flawless. Besides, he’d built a small army of three-foot-long, flame-shooting robotic spiders to throw a wrench into his former nemesis’ plans. “I don’t suppose you could email the lists of hotels and restaurants Metro Man used for that event?” he continued. “That would make you <em>my</em> new hero, Secretary Childers,” Megamind put on one of his most winning smiles.</p><p class="western">Over the past several months, Roxanne had realized that very few women could withstand her fiancé when he decided to be charming. True, he was only five-foot-five, large-headed, and blue, but he also possessed keen insight into human nature, a fascinating intellect, engaging charm, vivacious humor, and a smooth, cultured voice that could become so sensual it had an almost physical presence.</p><p class="western">Ms. Childers, it appeared, was one of the rare exceptions.</p><p class="western">“I suppose I could see if we still have that information,” her tone said clearly she had no intention whatsoever of looking.</p><p class="western">“That would be much appreciated,” Megamind said. “Especially given our short deadline.”</p><p class="western">“Yes, well, I’m sure a super-genius will have no trouble.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne was so angry that she could feel every muscle in her body tightening. Her lover pressed a gentle hand against her back, his thumb rubbing calming little circles.</p><p class="western">The message was clear: <em>not now, Sweetheart. This isn’t a battle we need to choose.</em></p><p class="western">“If there’s nothing else, Miss Childers,” the blue man said. “Roxanne and I will get to work.”</p><p class="western">The older woman gave him a look that practically sneered: <em>Oh, is THAT what they’re calling it nowadays?</em></p><p class="western">Roxanne wished momentarily that Megamind had invented a way to slap people through a monitor.</p><p class="western">“We will expect regular updates. That will be all, Defender.”</p><p class="western">The screen went blank without so much as a goodbye, the couple was left gazing at their own reflections.</p><p class="western">“That,” Roxanne growled, “has got to be the most horrible woman I’ve ever met.”</p><p class="western">Megamind shrugged. “She just doesn’t like me, Love. We can’t expect everyone to readily believe in my reformation.”</p><p class="western">“You say that like it makes this okay.”</p><p class="western">“Not okay, exactly, but… I’m accustomed to it. I used to get this sort of treatment all the time. Oh, don’t look so upset, Darling,” he turned a sidelong grin on her. “I <em>did</em> spend twenty years driving one of their star members crazy, after all. And then there was that time Metro Man went on vacation nine years ago.” He shook his head. “The hapless fellow the League sent to cover for him was completely out of his depth.”</p><p class="western">“I’d forgotten about that,” Roxanne said. “You hadn’t been kidnapping me for very long, so I wasn’t exactly the expert damsel I am now, but still, I’d never thought I would see a superhero frustrated nearly to tears.” She couldn’t help but smile. “That poor guy—what was his name? Max Something?”</p><p class="western">“Mighty Max. Ridiculous name if I ever heard one.”</p><p class="western">“Yes! That was it!” she snickered. “You told him that, too, I remember.”</p><p class="western">“‘Come again?! Your name is <em>what?!</em> Well, alright then, Mighty Mouse!’” Megamind quoted. “You know, I actually felt bad about that afterward. I didn’t expect him to take it so hard. I mean, banter is just part of the business.”</p><p class="western">“I think it may have been the fact that I couldn’t keep a straight face that really got to him. The damsel isn’t exactly supposed to laugh at her rescuer. Then when he couldn’t even start to defeat your Spider-Bot you actually started trying to subtly <em>coach</em> him on where he should hit the thing.”</p><p class="western">“A lot of good <em>that</em> did. He still couldn’t manage it. I mean, I wasn’t even <em>trying</em> by that point!”</p><p class="western">“Oh, God,” she groaned with a laugh. “I thought we were going to be there all night!”</p><p class="western">“I was beginning to have my doubts, too,” he grinned.</p><p class="western">“You cannot imagine how happy I was when you finally invented that grand speech about ‘battling mono-y-mono’ and got out to start a fistfight with him.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, believe me, I can definitely imagine it.” His mouth quirked. “I really should have thought that particular cunning plan through better. The brainbots are programmed to protect me. They were bound to attack.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah. I probably shouldn’t have laughed about that, either, but when he started flailing around, trying to shake one bot off his leg and yelling something about—What was it again?”</p><p class="western">“Evil bear trap plasma balls!” Megamind chortled. “Oh, I’d nearly forgotten about that! Classic! And then number 1238 bit him right in the rear and he screamed like a girl—”</p><p class="western">“That was literally the best! I know it was mean to ask him if he wanted me to save him instead, but that was too much! Mighty Max thought so, too, apparently. I didn’t think heroes were supposed to use that kind of language!” Roxanne chuckled. “You had Minion cut the cameras immediately, and when Max started wailing that he was never going to be made a full Defender after that, you two fed the poor guy cookies before you let him take you to jail.”</p><p class="western">“It was the only thing I could do. Did you know he was only seventeen at the time?”</p><p class="western">“Are you serious?! I thought he was older! What the hell were they thinking, sending him to face an experienced villain like that?! Is that even legal?!”</p><p class="western">“A shocking number of sidekicks are underage. It goes back to the old days when many of them were orphans adopted by heroes. And, honestly, I suspect they were trying to get rid of him. Not in that way!” he quickly added at Roxanne’s shocked expression. “They had to have been trying to convince him he wasn’t cut out for being a Defender. I can’t imagine any other sensible reason why they’d have chosen him for that job. It was terribly unfair.”</p><p class="western">“Which is why you built him that armored suit with the jet pack and a stun gun thingy.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Stun gun thingy?"</em> Megamind gasped in mock indigence. “I’ll have you know that was a <em>sonic cannon,</em> not a <em>stun gun thingy!</em> I did not, nor would I ever, invent a <em>‘stun gun thingy!’</em> Really, Miss Ritchi! And how could you possibly know about that?!” he crossed his arms.</p><p class="western">“I could say it’s because you’re so predictable—”</p><p class="western">“Oh, that’s just cruel!”</p><p class="western">“…But I’ll just call it nosy reporter skills,” she gestured to herself.</p><p class="western">He studied her for a moment, one side of his mouth quirking up. “Minion told you.”</p><p class="western">She did her best impression of surprised innocence. “Why on earth would you think that?”</p><p class="western">That earned her a raised eyebrow. “Why on earth would you respond with a question?” he grinned a challenge. Suddenly, this had turned into a game of Questions Only.</p><p class="western">“What, I’m not allowed to ask questions now?”</p><p class="western">“If you have nothing to hide, why don’t you deny it outright?”</p><p class="western">“Isn’t that what I just did?”</p><p class="western">“Would I be asking you to do it if you had?”</p><p class="western">“Isn’t that what <em>you</em> just did?”</p><p class="western">“Foul!” Megamind exclaimed with a laugh. “No asking the same question twice! You know the rules, Oh, Lady Mine!”</p><p class="western">“It wasn’t the same question!” she objected, giggling.</p><p class="western">“One changed word is not sufficient!”</p><p class="western">“Is too!”</p><p class="western">“Is not! And now you must pay the price!” he grabbed her, deft blue fingers strumming along her ribs. “This is a crime punishable by tickling!”</p><p class="western">“Stop!” Roxanne shrieked with laughter. “Okay, okay, you win!”</p><p class="western">“Admit that Minion told you!” he demanded playfully.</p><p class="western">She squirmed and batted ineffectually at his hands, shaking with giggles. “Never!”</p><p class="western">“Say it!”</p><p class="western">“You,” she gasped around another burst of guffaws. “You… can’t… make… me!”</p><p class="western">“Oh, really?” he stopped tickling her long enough to arch an eyebrow and give her a wicked smirk that made her shiver for entirely different reasons. “Brainbots!” he called. “Come get Mommy’s shoes off! And bring Daddy the feather duster!”</p><p class="western">“Argh!” Roxanne tried to dodge around the invisible car as several flying cyborgs darted her way, bowging happily. “Megamind! Don’t you dare!”</p><p class="western">He caught her waist and pulled her into his arms. “Admit it, then!”</p><p class="western">“No way!” she struggled as his hands started tickling again.</p><p class="western">“Admit it!”</p><p class="western">“Never give up! Never surrender!” she quoted.</p><p class="western">He rumbled a full belly laugh. “You know the brainbots will chew your shoes once they have them!”</p><p class="western">“Not if I throw them your boots first!”</p><p class="western">“Wicked girl!”</p><p class="western">“Dastardly villain!”</p><p class="western">“Flattery will get you nowhere!”</p><p class="western">“You forget, I know your weaknesses, too!” she crowed and ran her fingernails down the back of his large head. Megamind let out a trilling purr.</p><p class="western">“Temptress,” he growled and crushed his lips to hers.</p><p class="western">One of the brainbots chose that moment to dive for Roxanne’s feet, and she squealed against his mouth, trying to shuffle her shoes to safety.</p><p class="western">The blue hero broke the kiss with a laugh and waved his flying drones away. “Brainbots, disregard previous command.”</p><p class="western">There was a chorus of disappointed mechanical barks, and several of the cyborgs drooped their glowing eye stalks.</p><p class="western">“Aww, you’ve made them sad,” Roxanne cooed. “Poor babies. Do you want to play fetch?” she added. The brainbots perked up immediately. “Go bring Mommy the wrench!”</p><p class="western">Swirling one full aerial circuit, the little cyborgs raced away, bowging excitedly.</p><p class="western">Megamind chuckled. “Isn’t that cute?”</p><p class="western">“Almost as adorable as you are.”</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” he agreed, nuzzling her hair. “And yet you deny me. How cruel.” He fixed her with a teasing look. “You know, I do have ways of ferreting out your little secret.”</p><p class="western">She gave him her best wry grin. “And I do have ways of making sure you regret it.”</p><p class="western">“You think you can out-evil Megamind, do you?”</p><p class="western">“Well, you are a good guy now.”</p><p class="western">As if to prove the point, the brainbots returned with a battered old monkey wrench, and their master threw it far into the recesses of the Lair.</p><p class="western">“And you’re not?” he asked as the cyborgs sped away in a happy chase.</p><p class="western">“I’m a reporter! We’re infamously ruthless!”</p><p class="western">“Oh, ho ho!” he kissed the tip of her nose. “I shall have to watch my step, won’t I?”</p><p class="western">“You will,” her grin broadened. “Or else I’ll teach the brainbots to chew on Minions best cookware and say it was <em>your</em> idea!”</p><p class="western">“Devious! You are a truly terrifying woman!”</p><p class="western">“Good thing I’m on your side, then.” She pecked his mouth.</p><p class="western">“That it is.”</p><p class="western">“Seriously, though, you really did create that super-suit, didn’t you?”</p><p class="western">“I did. I had it delivered to him anonymously, of course, but I doubt he had any difficulty figuring out who’d sent it. I half expected him to send it back—Defenders can’t accept anything from villains; it would be considered a bribe—but he didn’t.”</p><p class="western">“I wonder whatever happened to him?”</p><p class="western">“He’s the Defender of Anchorage Alaska now. Grew out his hair and changed his name to Starfall. He has a sort of Space Viking persona going on.”</p><p class="western">“Well, it’s definitely an improvement from Mighty Max, anyway. I wonder how he gets his fancy suit repaired?” Roxanne asked, a sophic smile playing about her lips.</p><p class="western">“Nosy reporter. Not through me, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’d both already taken big enough risks as it was. The Defenders’ League may be very strict about hero-villain interactions, but believe me, the Brotherhood of Darkness is much worse.”</p><p class="western">“The what?”</p><p class="western">“Brotherhood of Darkness. It’s the supervillain association that’s basically the antithesis of the League.”</p><p class="western">“But I thought you were an independent villain?”</p><p class="western">“I was, but that wouldn’t have stopped the Brotherhood from causing trouble. They already didn’t like me because I kept the Doom Syndicate under my thumb, and chased any other officially recognized villains out of my territory.”</p><p class="western">“Huh. So who does fix Starfall’s suit, then?”</p><p class="western">“Apparently, there’s a Defender in California who works as an aerospace engineer at a space exploration company when he’s not saving the populace. He takes care of the suit when it needs repairs. He’s even added a couple of fairly interesting upgrades. I’m hoping he might attend this conference. It would at least be a bright spot in this annoying business.”</p><p class="western">“Speaking of which,” Roxanne reluctantly unwound her arms from his neck, “I suppose we really should get started on our new jobs as event planners.”</p><p class="western">Megamind tightened his embrace again as she started to move away, a lascivious grin on his features.</p><p class="western">“Later, my Sweet,” he purred. “First, I believe I promised you a little… B.B.A.D. time.”</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” Roxanne slid one finger up his ear to gently tug on the tip, and he shivered, pulling even closer against his slim frame. “Well,” she said, voice breathy with reawakened desire, “a Defender really <em>should</em> keep his promises.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed,” the blue hero rumbled, leaning in for a deep kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Preparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“Miss Olivia, please stay still,” Minion implored for what felt like the hundredth time.</p><p class="western">“Sorry Uncle Minion,” the girl said. This time she managed to stay still for nearly thirty seconds before she wriggled again, forcing the sidekick to quickly withdraw a straight pin from the muslin enveloping his young model.</p><p class="western">It was mid-morning on Saturday, and the entire family was in the workroom, Olivia perching on a stool and Minion making adjustments to the pattern for her flower girl dress while the other two Lair residents worked at desks. Guns and Roses was playing on the stereo.</p><p class="western">Due to Megamind’s heavy responsibilities as Defender, the couple’s multi-month legal battle for their adopted daughter’s custody, and their keen awareness that people would expect the marriage of the local hero to his celebrity reporter girlfriend to be a grand, public affair, Megamind and Roxanne had opted for a year-long engagement. The big day itself wouldn’t take place until May 16<sup>th</sup>, giving them nearly three more months to finish the preparations. It was a good thing, too, since they now found themselves trying to throw together a conference in only six weeks. The result of the long betrothal was that Minion had wisely saved Olivia’s dress for last since, as he said, she was at an age when she was likely to grow several inches without warning. He’d been right. Megamind had started keeping track of the girl’s growth, painting thin lines in various glittery colors on one wall of the workroom. Just last weekend he’d announced that the eight-year-old was now exactly 126.8 centimeters tall—like most engineers, he preferred the metric system—and had proudly informed her that that meant she had grown nearly seven centimeters in the past twelve months. The blue genius had then, of course, sat down with Olivia and taught her the equations to calculate her height in American Standard measurements: 4 feet, 1.9 inches. He’d then taken the opportunity to teach her about converting measurements into decimals (4.1583 feet) and expressing them in complex fractions (49 and 59/64 inches.) The lesson that Minion had taken away from the incident had been somewhat different; he’d decided to leave an extra-long hem in the flower girl dress, just in case.</p><p class="western">Taller she might be, but Olivia hadn’t grown in patience. As Roxanne watched, the girl wriggled again.</p><p class="western">“Careful, Miss,” the fish warned with his usual cheerful tolerance. “What part is it this time?”</p><p class="western">“It’s my nose,” she sighed with that special depth of melodrama only children seem able to reach. “It’s just like when you’re at the dinner table. As soon as you’re not allowed to scratch everything itches!”</p><p class="western">Megamind half-turned from the drawing board where he was sketching out schematics and calculations for a new interactive city-wide warning system. He draped one arm over the back of his chair and grinned.</p><p class="western">“You’ll just have to get used to that, I’m afraid,” he informed his adopted daughter. “It never really changes. The moment I sit down to an important meeting or one of those official dinners, <em>something</em> becomes uncomfortable.”</p><p class="western">“My pantyhose always start misbehaving whenever I'm on air,” Roxanne admitted. She was sitting at a supercomputer terminal researching caterers for the Defenders’ League event. “What do you think about Le Potager, Megamind?”</p><p class="western">“I don’t know… I love them, but sadly not everyone appreciates rustic French cuisine. Maybe for the Conference Saturday Brunch? I don’t think anyone could object to Omelette Provencale, fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee.”</p><p class="western">“Le Potager also bakes a sugar-free version of Gâteau de Petit Déjeuner,” Minion informed them. A dedicated student of the culinary arts, he could be counted on to know what any of the best restaurants in a fifty-mile radius kept on their regular menus. “That way everyone will be taken care of.”</p><p class="western">Although the League secretary had, predictably, neglected to send a list of previous caterers, she had finally gotten the list of attendees and their dietary restrictions to the couple that past Thursday. Megamind had sent back an email both thanking her and requesting the other list again… and had <em>just happened</em> to CC the League’s president, Ms. Childers’ direct supervisor. Maybe the man would prompt his subordinate to behave a little more professionally, but the Lair’s residents weren’t holding their breaths. At any rate, they now at least knew that two Defenders were vegetarian, one had a rare vinegar allergy, and the League president himself, an aging retired hero, had recently been put on a low-sugar diet by his physician.</p><p class="western">"We've already got Saturday brunch taken care of.  That's—let's see— The Lakeview Cafe, but we do need someone for the Friday Breakfast with BrightShield," Roxanne said, making a note.  "The hotel insisted on providing all the rest of the morning meals.  And we've already got all the food for Wednesday and Thursday lined up."</p><p class="western">“I really wouldn’t mind catering everything, Sir,” Minion had been making the same offer for two days. “Alright, Miss Olivia, you can go ahead and scratch now.”</p><p class="western">“I know you would do it, my fantastic fish,” Megamind responded. “And don’t worry,” he added with a grin. “You’ll get a chance to show off your culinary skills for one of the dinners. Make everyone green with jealousy. But I can’t ask you to prepare <em>all</em> the meals; you’re already making the wedding clothes, the wedding cake, and the wedding banquet, not to mention your regular duties at home and around Metrocity.”</p><p class="western">“That’s very thoughtful of you, Sir. Can you stay still again now, please, Miss Olivia? The sooner I can finish this, the sooner I can start on your dress.”</p><p class="western">“Yes, Uncle Minion.”</p><p class="western">“Let’s play Statue,” Megamind offered.</p><p class="western">“Statue?”</p><p class="western">“Yes! Talking is okay, but we can’t move anything else! The first one who does loses!”</p><p class="western">Olivia rolled her eyes. “That’s not a real game. That’s just a trick to make me stay still.”</p><p class="western">Megamind looked at her with comically overblown affront. “It is too a real game!” he insisted.</p><p class="western">“It is not.”</p><p class="western">“Is too!” he was trying to sound serious, but the corners of his mouth kept trembling upward.</p><p class="western">“Is not!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne chuckled and shook her head. <em>What am I going to do with those two?</em></p><p class="western">“It is a real game, and I can prove it!” the blue hero was fighting not to laugh. “Number 718!” he called to a nearby brainbot. “Show information concerning the children’s game Statue on Terminal Three!” The cyborg obeyed, and a website filled one of the giant monitors. “Ha!” Megamind grinned with triumph. “Told you so!”</p><p class="western">Olivia thought for a moment. “Okay,” she conceded. “I’ll play Statue with you <em>if</em> you stand on one leg!”</p><p class="western">“You’ve got a deal!” Megamind agreed, leaping up and balancing on his right foot. “We already have Friday night’s dinner arranged, right?” he added to Roxanne, his pose impressively still.</p><p class="western">“Yes, that’s… let’s see...” Roxanne checked her list. “The Speakeasy Kitchen and Cocktails. Their prices include a bar with two mixed drinks per person. People can buy more if they want.”</p><p class="western">“Ask them to set a limit, Love. We don’t need a bunch of plastered superheroes wreaking havoc on the Jo.”</p><p class="western">The Johannessen Resort, better known as the Jo among locals, was an upscale establishment focused around what had once been a sprawling Edwardian manor north of town. Extensive renovations and additions— all tastefully maintaining the historic ambiance— had turned it into a five-star hotel complex boasting a ballroom, three conference rooms, a spa, two pools (one of them heated and enclosed in what had once been the solarium), a banquet room, and a gourmet restaurant. The Johannessen itself would be serving Friday’s lunch when the participant’s first arrived: a menu featuring culinary fusion twists on traditional Polish and German dishes. Roxanne had been a little surprised that the resort had rooms— and the largest conference space— available on such short notice, but the owners had explained that the summer rush wouldn’t start until June and that their other busy season was around the winter holidays.</p><p class="western">Megamind had vetoed the idea of having the Johannessen cater all the meals for exactly that reason.</p><p class="western">“Their largest income during the off-seasons almost certainly comes from the restaurant and spa,” he’d explained. “And having the conference there will be good for business. Anyone from here to New York who can afford to reserve a table will want one in the hope of rubbing elbows with members of the Defender’s League. I plan to invite a couple of other heroes to have coffee or drinks there with me after dinner each evening. That should keep the customers coming in, and the press coverage should provide enough free advertising to make this well worth the Jo’s efforts.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne sometimes thought that, if things had been different, Megamind might have become a stunningly successful businessman. Looking at him now, however, she had to admit that she was glad they hadn’t.</p><p class="western">“Oh, Gods, I can imagine the headlines: ‘<em>Drunken Defenders Destroy Historic Hotel</em>,” she laughed. “That would be a disaster! The Gate House Restaurant and the Chrononaut Tavern have both agreed to cater meals, too,” she added, eyes scanning down her list. “Actually, The Crononaut invited us to use their events area, free of charge, and Dylon, the owner, says he’ll pay to have live music.”</p><p class="western">“I like it,” Megamind said. “Even if the music is likely to be a hipster with a ukulele. After all, the Chrononaut is as famous for its ambiance as its food and beer list.” He was still managing to remain stone-still. It would have been impressive for anyone, but Roxanne, knowing her blue boyfriend’s usual exuberant energy, found his accomplishing it twice as astounding. For a moment the reporter considered mentioning it, but she neither wanted to annoy Olivia, who was clearly struggling not to squirm, nor distract Megamind.</p><p class="western">“How many are they up to now?” the alien continued. “Beers I mean.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne typed some keys and brought up the tavern’s website on the giant monitor. “Including hard ciders and porters, they’ve got over three-hundred available, quite a few of them from local breweries. I suppose we really ought to have La Bella Vita cater something, too.”</p><p class="western">“We almost have to,” her lover agreed. “If word got around that I own shares in one of the best restaurants in Metrocity and didn’t offer to have them provide one of the meals, it wouldn’t do me any favors with the League.”</p><p class="western">A notification popped up in the corner of the screen, and the reporter clicked it. “Purple Peony emailed us about doing one of the meals.”</p><p class="western">“I don’t know… Fusion sushi isn’t exactly everyone’s style.”</p><p class="western">“They do yakiniku, specialty ramen, and a wide variety of dim sum too, Sir,” Minion offered.</p><p class="western">“It <em>would</em> be fun to watch Mister Roboto trying to use chopsticks,” the hero mused.</p><p class="western">“Megamind!” Roxanne chortled. “That’s just evil!”</p><p class="western">“You’re marrying a former supervillain,” he reminded her, one eyebrow arched over a darkly teasing grin. “You’ve got to expect a little evil now and then. Can we set up for yakiniku in the banquet room? And are there vegetarian options available too?”</p><p class="western">“I’ll ask,” his fiancé said, already typing a response. “If everyone else agrees, that should have the meals covered.”</p><p class="western">“Good. Then next we can—”</p><p class="western">An alarm split the silence, and Megamind leaped into action.</p><p class="western">“Armed robbery at Metro City Bank!” he announced after a glance at his holowatch. “Duty calls!”</p><p class="western">“Daddy Megamind, you lost the game!” cheered Olivia.</p><p class="western">“So I did,” the blue man shot her a quick smile as he motioned over several brainbots. “All hail the reigning queen of Statue!”</p><p class="western">“It’s okay,” the girl answered with eight-year-old magnanimity. “We’ll have a rematch since you have to go to work.”</p><p class="western">“Livy, how did you become so sweet?”</p><p class="western">“It’s all the sugar I put in my coffee!”</p><p class="western">“Ah, well… I, um, yes...” the hero cast a sheepish look over at Roxanne, who had her arms crossed. At her insistence, he was supposed to have stopped giving their adopted daughter the caffeinated drink. After a moment, however, she merely sighed. With her fiancé about to go into danger, this wasn’t the time. They would discuss it later.</p><p class="western">“You’re all done, Miss Olivia,” Minion said. “Sir, shall I come with you?”</p><p class="western">Megamind was stepping into the privacy curtain, already stripping off his AC/DC t-shirt, as he called back: “Absolutely, my fantastic fish. Ready my hoverbike, and follow in the car! I’ll need speed to get there in time. Sweetheart,” he added to Roxanne from his concealment, “are you likely to be called in to cover this?”</p><p class="western">“Probably not. I’m not on call this weekend, and Leonard is fully capable of covering a bank robbery.”</p><p class="western">The hero made a sound of understanding.</p><p class="western">“Minion!” Roxanne called after the retreating sidekick.</p><p class="western">He turned in his bowl. “Yes Ma’am?”</p><p class="western">“You can use my hoverbike so you can get there at the same time.”</p><p class="western">“Will do, Miss Ritchi!”</p><p class="western">“Thank you, Love,” Megamind said. Moments later he reappeared, dressed in his spiky black battle gear, and snapped his fingers in the air. “Brainbots! Bring Daddy’s body camera!” He turned a smile on his fiancé. “I’ll capture exclusive footage for you, my Sweet. And make sure that Harold knows it’s yours and yours alone.”</p><p class="western">She couldn’t help it; she rose to throw her arms around him and kiss him soundly on the mouth. Olivia made a show of covering her eyes with a disgusted groan.</p><p class="western">“Why are you so wonderful?” Roxanne asked her blue boyfriend when they parted for air.</p><p class="western">“It’s a natural talent,” he grinned, buckling on the camera harness and his holster.</p><p class="western">“But, seriously,” she said, “I know how much you dislike wearing a body camera. This means a lot to me.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, I don’t dislike wearing them, Love. I simply dislike having to replace them constantly. They rarely survive more than one fight.  Poor construction, really.  I ought to make my own.  Buying new ones seems like such a waste.”</p><p class="western">She chuckled. “And yet you’re willing to destroy one just for me.”</p><p class="western">“A worthy sacrifice, my Lady!” Megamind assured her with a dramatic bow, his tone all affectionate teasing. As he stood again and locked his gaze with hers, however, his grin shifted to something more sincere and tender. The hero stroked one gloved hand through her hair. “I’ll have a few brainbots record footage as well.”</p><p class="western">“Thank you, Darling.”</p><p class="western">“Well, now, we can’t deprive all Metrocity of seeing their Incredibly Handsome Heroic Genius in action, can we?”</p><p class="western">Roxanne’s laughter made her face feel as if it were glowing. “You know,” she said, tickling the patch of dark hair on his chin. “For a dashing and unreasonably hot Defender, you can be a ridiculous, adorable goofball sometimes.”</p><p class="western">“Anything for you, my Dear.”</p><p class="western">“The hoverbikes are warmed up, Sir!” Minion called, and Roxanne leaned in to bump her nose against Megamind’s.</p><p class="western">“I love you.” She kissed him again. “Be careful.”</p><p class="western">“Always.  I love you, too.”</p><p class="western">He moved away, holding out his arms, and a curly-haired blur launched itself at him. Olivia practically tackled the blue man’s waist in a hug.</p><p class="western">“Bye, Daddy Megamind! Scare the bad guys really good for me!”</p><p class="western">“Really well,” he corrected with gentle affection, patting her hair. “And just for you, I’ll use my most terrifying evil laugh!” He demonstrated, and Olivia squealed with enthusiastic giggles.</p><p class="western">“They’re going to pee their pants!”</p><p class="western">“Ugh, I hope not!” Megamind winked over his shoulder as he mounted his hoverbike. “I have to get them all the way to jail!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sins and Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">The following weeks passed with very little incident— judging by some comments Megamind had made, Roxanne suspected that the Dragons and the Ghost Riders were temporarily helping to curb illegal activity in the city— and the Defender’s League Conference loomed near. Roxanne packed bags for both herself and Olivia, finding that the task required more negotiation than expected. The little girl insisted that several stuffed toys, a plastic tiara, and her favorite princess dress were absolute necessities. Roxanne had, at least convinced her to leave her pixie wings behind. (Much to the reporter's dismay, her lover had built their adopted daughter functional wings, powered by an ion-thrust jetpack, for her birthday.)</p><p class="western">The Jo did its best to make visitors feel like guests at an old-world noble estate, and the effort wasn’t lost on Roxanne. The doorman looked more like a butler than anything else, and even called the reporter “madam,” while the bags were taken upstairs by bellhops in dark liveried uniforms harkening back to Edwardian footmen. Even the friendly manager stationed at a carved dark wood front desk did little to dispel the fantasy.</p><p class="western">“Welcome, Mr. Mind... Yes, sir, you’re in the honeymoon suite. The young lady and your friend,” he nodded toward Olivia and Minion, “have a suite down the hall from you… I hope you’ll all be very comfortable… If I can get you anything, please don’t hesitate to call… Sign here, please. Thank you.”</p><p class="western">“We have the <em>honeymoon suite</em>, do we?” Roxanne whispered to her lover as they followed a pair of bellhops down a lushly carpeted hall.</p><p class="western">He cast her a sidelong troublemaker’s grin. “Yes, well, we’ll be here for an entire week. Naturally, we will need privacy to…” he quirked one eyebrow over a libidinous grin. “B.B.A.D.”</p><p class="western">The reporter felt her cheeks grow warm and had to swallow an embarrassingly girlish giggle.</p><p class="western">It was a good thing she had nights in Megamind’s arms to look forward to, because the meet and greet luncheon with the other Defenders was not, strictly speaking, a resounding success. It wasn’t that anything had gone <em>wrong</em> exactly; the lunch had been delicious, the staff attentive, and the guest, to all appearances, perfectly happy. Nearly everyone had even arrived on time for the wine, hors d’oeuvres, and social hour in the lounge before the meal. (The only exception had been Anna Wong, better known as Black Cat. The Defender of Hawaii, Anna was the only superhero in her state, and a villain’s attempt to cause a major volcanic eruption had made her miss her original flight. Roxanne had read all about the event and subsequent capture online, although her colleague, Marcia Marcum, was presenting KMCP’s coverage on the story.) Nonetheless, the first meal of the 2012 Defenders’ League conference could, at best, be described as awkward. At least where Megamind and his fiancé were concerned.</p><p class="western">It had started, unsurprisingly, with Ms. Childers.</p><p class="western">“Mr. Megamind,” she addressed the blue hero curtly. “May I ask where the other refreshments are?”</p><p class="western">Megamind broke off his discussion with BrightShield, the League President, a retired hero with gray hair and a uniform that was starting to stretch just a little too tightly across his middle. They had been deep in conversation about methods for controlling crime within urban centers when the secretary interrupted.</p><p class="western">“Lunch is set to be served shortly, at one o’clock, Ms. Childers,” he assured her, his tone a blend of confused politeness.</p><p class="western">“Thank you, I am quite aware of that,” she sniffed. Despite being a petite woman, nearly five inches shorter than the Megamind, she managed to give the distinct impression she was looking down her nose at the alien. “I was referring to the drinks. Is there anything other than wine? You do know, I suppose, that Vulcan is a <em>recovering alcoholic?</em>”</p><p class="western"><em>Horrible shrew,</em> thought Roxanne. <em>Of course we didn’t know. I’ll bet you left out that little detail on purpose.</em></p><p class="western">The blue man seemed to be thinking something similar. Close by his side, her hand resting on the crook of his arm, Roxanne could feel her lover stiffen, but his voice remained impressively calm and courteous.</p><p class="western">“No, I’m afraid I had no idea,” he answered. “That seems to have been… overlooked in the list of dietary restrictions we were provided. Completely by accident, I’m sure.” Childer’s lips thinned at the veiled reprimand. “I'll be happy to have the hotel provide something more... AA friendly. Brainbots!” The blue hero snapped his fingers in the air. “Bring the maitre d’ to Daddy. No! Wait! Disregard command! Brainbots, <em>lead</em> the maitre d' to Daddy. No picking him up! No biting!”</p><p class="western">Three of the little cyborgs sped off to obey. Megamind continued speaking to BrightShield, the older man offering a slightly stiff apology for the oversight on the information his organization had provided. His light blue-gray eyes flitted toward Childers in a way that forced her to express her own far less sincere regret. Despite the obvious discrepancy, the blue alien graciously accepted both. Moments later, a man in a black three-piece suit followed them back, somehow managing to convey unruffled refinement even as he bustled up to Megamind.</p><p class="western">“Is there a problem, sir?”</p><p class="western">“Nothing that can’t be quickly rectified,” Megamind assured him. “Miss Childers here,” the secretary’s lips thinned even more, “has just informed me that some of our guests would prefer non-alcoholic beverages. Can something be arranged at such short notice?”</p><p class="western">“Yes, sir. We have flavored sparkling water and tea that can be brought out immediately. Will that do?”</p><p class="western">“That would be excellent. Please put it on my tab. And make sure we have the same available from now on. My apologies for any inconvenience.”</p><p class="western">“Right away, sir. I’m happy to be of service. Is there anything else I can get for you?”</p><p class="western">“No, no, that will be all. Thank you.”</p><p class="western">Within minutes, a tea service, two silver carafes, and more stemmed glasses were rolled out on cloth-draped trolleys.</p><p class="western">“There,” the polite smile Megamind turned on Ms. Childers held just the tiniest hint of triumph. “Disaster averted.”</p><p class="western">The secretary glared at him wordlessly, nostrils flaring.</p><p class="western">A deep chuckle broke the tension. “A regular Lord of the Manor, aren’t you?” a male voice asked.</p><p class="western">Roxanne turned her head to look past her lover and saw a tall, burly man with dark brown hair grinning at Megamind. The Defenders wore their uniforms for the first day of the Conference— a tradition, apparently— and the reporter’s initial impression of this particular superhero was that he was an imitator. Everything from his Elvis Presley hairstyle to his bodybuilder’s physique reminded her a little too forcibly of Metro Man. She could have still given him the benefit of the doubt, however, if it weren’t for his outfit. The white elastic suit, blue tights, and red cape, all edged with gold, were so similar to what Wayne Smith had once worn it was almost laughable. The man even had a blue crest printed on his chest and a wide metal belt around his waist, both emblazoned with a bold golden J.</p><p class="western">Beside her, Megamind was cocking an eyebrow at the man. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”</p><p class="western">“Ah, just the way you handled that. Very elegant, if you don’t mind my saying so.” He laughed again. “Now, don’t look so annoyed. I mean it as a compliment. That’s something supervillains have always done better than us, I’ve said so for years. So much refinement. We heroes? We’ve got too many good ol’ boys and not enough gentlemen if you ask me. Sets a bad example.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind is a hero,” Roxanne reminded him sweetly.</p><p class="western">“Of course he is! But he <em>used</em> to be a supervillain, and he’s still got that <em>style</em>. I like it. Maybe you’ll start a new trend,” he added to the blue alien. “I know we’ve already been introduced, but that was so formal. Captain Justice, Defender of Minneapolis,” he stuck out a hand to be shaken. “Or Dirk Olsen, if you like. But you can just call me Dirk.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind,” the blue man smiled wryly. “But you can just call me, ah, Megamind.”</p><p class="western">“Seriously?” Dirk grinned. “Oh, people are going to be <em>livid</em>. Did you know there’s a betting pool going to try to guess your real name?”</p><p class="western">“Is there indeed? I wondered why everyone kept looking at me so expectantly during the introductions.”</p><p class="western">“So it really is just Megamind, then?”</p><p class="western">“I’m afraid so. I…” the blue man looked a little uncomfortable, and Roxanne gave his arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Well,” he continued after clearing his throat. “You have to understand, I left my home planet at a very young age. I have no given name, as far as I can remember.”</p><p class="western">“Man, that’s rough. What did people call you when you were a boy?”</p><p class="western">The alien flashed him another sly, humorous grin. “Nothing nice, usually.”</p><p class="western">Dirk laughed again. “You and me both! You wouldn’t believe it now, but I used to be a <em>serious</em> troublemaker! My grandmother says she wore out the knees of every pair of slacks she owned praying for me!” He toasted Megamind with his wine glass. “I nearly ended up in jail myself once. What was your first time in?”</p><p class="western">“When I was a baby. And my escape pod landed in the prison yard.”</p><p class="western">The other man looked at him for a moment, astounded. “You mean… That really happened?”</p><p class="western">“Yes,” Megamind was beginning to look as if he would rather be nearly anywhere else.</p><p class="western">“And you were really raised there?”</p><p class="western">“Yes.”</p><p class="western">“That’s…” Dirk shook his head. “That’s just wrong. Somebody should have done something. I’m really sorry, Little Buddy.”</p><p class="western"><em>Little Buddy? </em>Thought Roxanne. <em>Really?</em></p><p class="western">Megamind lifted an eyebrow again, this time slowly.</p><p class="western">Dirk Olsen made a little coughing sound and cast about in an obvious effort to change the subject. “I’ve got to say, I’ve only been a Defender for seven years, but this is the swankiest Convention I’ve ever been to. You really do things right!”</p><p class="western">“Thank you. I try.” Megamind smiled. “Well, it’s been very nice to meet you. I’m glad to know at least one other Defender is here representing the Great Lakes Region.” He turned back to BrightShield. “Concerning your question about lowering crime rates, I’m afraid my own methods might not be entirely feasible for many other—”</p><p class="western">“Oh, Lady Siren was planning on coming, but she’s still recovering from that battle with Doctor Pain. Karl Shulman, that’s Thunderbolt from Springfield, wanted to make it, too, but he had to cancel. His wife’s having a baby, you know.”</p><p class="western">“Is she?” Roxanne asked. “We’ll have to send our congratulations, Love,” she added to Megamind. She was glad to hear that at least two of the cancellations had been due to legitimate personal reasons, and not due to who was hosting this year’s conference.</p><p class="western">The blue hero nodded. “We should send a baby gift as well. Minion will probably want to crochet a blanket.”</p><p class="western">He began to turn back to his previous conversation.</p><p class="western">“Yeah, I’ve already sent my condolences,” Kirk chuckled. “I can’t imagine Karl changing diapers! Man, is he in for it!”</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” Megamind said noncommittally. He liked children. “Is this the happy couple’s first child, then?”</p><p class="western">“Their second.”</p><p class="western">“Ah, I suppose he knows what he’s doing, then.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, yeah, sure, but I still had to tease him about it. Are you two planning on starting a family? After the big day, I mean?”</p><p class="western">“We’ve already started one. We adopted a daughter earlier this year—”</p><p class="western">“Right! I heard about that! Smart man, skipping the diapers—”</p><p class="western">“...But we’ve discussed the possibility of having a child together someday, if such a thing is genetically viable.”</p><p class="western">“Of course, kids are a blessing, really. I’d like to have a couple myself if I ever find the right woman.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed,” Megamind said blandly. “The right woman,” he added in more sincere tones, turning toward Roxanne with a tender expression in his green eyes, “is a glorious treasure.” He glanced back at Dirk. “Well, I wish you good luck in finding your soul mate.”</p><p class="western">They'd started to turn away when Captain Justice stopped them again. “Speaking of soul mates,” he offered. “Have you spoken much to KnightHawke and Sparrow? They’re right over there,” he indicated a couple standing near the drink table. Juniper Hawke, codenamed Sparrow, was a slim, tall woman with long, straight black hair while her husband, Brendan, also known as KnightHawke, had a swimmer’s build and reddish-blonde waves combed back from his face. Both wore what appeared to be scale mail armor wrought to look like layered feathers. “Been married for years,” Dirk continued. “Come on, I’ll introduce you!”</p><p class="western">“We’ve already been introduced,” Roxanne whispered to Megamind, who nodded.</p><p class="western">Neither of them, however, could think of a polite way to extricate themselves, so they cringed through the awkwardness of being reacquainted with people they had met only two hours before. Thankfully, Anna “Black Cat” Wong arrived a few minutes later, so Dirk had someone he could legitimately introduce them to.</p><p class="western">After about two minutes of conversation, Vulcan approached their small group. This was the one Defender whose genetics Roxanne couldn’t even begin to guess at. Sometimes called Georgia’s Golden Boy, his skin was an even mellow tan color, his hair like curly sunlight, and his eyes a bright shade of amber. Vulcan was nearly as muscle-bound as Dirk, and, Roxanne estimated, about three inches taller. He was also, she noticed, holding a glass of red wine. Maybe she should tactfully inform him there were non-alcoholic beverages available now?</p><p class="western">“If you’ll excuse me,” Anna said, “I just got in and I really need to take my things up to my room.”</p><p class="western">Megamind opened his mouth to say something— probably an offer to have a bellhop or even brainbots see to Anna’s things— but Roxanne, recognizing the symptoms of another woman escaping unwanted advancements, stopped him with a discreet hand on his arm. She flicked her gaze meaningfully at the approaching man, who had stopped in his tracks when Anna left. Megamind’s expression grew dour as he turned back to his lover. He had been furious when he’d learned that Roxanne’s old cameraman, Hal, had sexually harassed her— “Really, Sweetheart! You should have said something! I would have stopped it! Yes, Darling, I <em>know</em> I was your serial kidnapper at the time, but still!”— and he looked on any such behavior with nearly equal animosity.</p><p class="western">Roxanne caught his eye and looked a message at him. <em>Not here, Love. Not yet. He hasn’t done anything publicly, and we can’t make a scene.</em></p><p class="western">The blue man frowned a little but gave a slight nod of understanding.</p><p class="western">Unable to procure any information about which attendees got along and which didn’t, Megamind and Roxanne had opted for rotating seating arrangements ensuring that different people sat together at different meals. As luck would have it, when lunch was announced, Roxanne and Megamind found themselves joined at their table by KnightHawke, Sparrow, and, unfortunately, Vulcan.</p><p class="western">Megamind’s posture went rigid as the tall man sat down. So, Roxanne noticed, did KnightHawke’s. Clearly, her blue boyfriend wasn’t the only one who had noticed Black Cat’s reaction to Vulcan and discerned the reason. It made her like the man better. At least until he opened his mouth.</p><p class="western">“Have you met Megamind?” KnightHawke asked Vulcan. “He’s the former supervillain of Metro City.”</p><p class="western"><em>Former supervillain</em>, Roxanne noted. <em>Not Defender.</em></p><p class="western">“So I’ve heard,” Vulcan answered.</p><p class="western">“Of course, he’s the hero of our fair city now,” Roxanne stated in the same pointedly polite tone she often used when interviewees turned reticent or surly. “Thanks to him our crime rates are the lowest they’ve ever been.”</p><p class="western">“It must be nice, being the Defender of a town this small,” Juniper Hawke, otherwise known as Sparrow, said conversationally. “We’re in New York City. Talk about an uphill battle.”</p><p class="western">The reporter wondered for a moment if she'd really heard the pointed condescension under the other woman's amiable tone, or if the barely hidden biases against her lover were making her oversensitive.</p><p class="western">“June, please.” Her husband Brendan said in a low murmur.</p><p class="western">“It’s better than Washington D.C.,” Responded Vulcan. “Freedom Fighter has to deal with both criminals and politicians.”</p><p class="western">“That’s a little redundant, isn’t it?” chuckled Megamind. Vulcan laughed, but the other two stared blankly at him.</p><p class="western">Juniper Hawke muttered something that sounded like: “If you don’t like our country you can just go home.”</p><p class="western"><em>Well, that answers that question.</em>  Roxanne fought not to glare at the other woman. Megamind laid a calming hand over her own, and, with a deep breath, she pushed her emotions down.</p><p class="western">“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible,” the blue man said mildly. “My home was destroyed by a black hole, you know. Besides, my responsibilities and the people I love are all here. Ah, forgive me,” he added at the woman’s startled look. “Was I not supposed to hear that comment? My mistake. It’s the curse of having such extremely keen ears.”</p><p class="western">A waitress came to take their drink orders, and Roxanne, conscious of Vulcan’s struggles, ordered a sparkling iced strawberry white tea. Megamind followed suit, requesting a mango-tangerine Italian soda. The other couple seemed to take the hint and opted for similar beverages. Then it was Vulcan’s turn.</p><p class="western">“I’ll have a Whiskey Sour,” he said. “Two cherries.”</p><p class="western">Darting a quick look at Megamind, Roxanne met her lover’s gaze and saw her same question reflected in his eyes. <em>Recovering alcoholic?</em></p><p class="western">The reporter might have wondered whether Clarissa Childers had merely invented Vulcan’s vice to make she and Megamind’s lives difficult if it hadn’t been for the other couple ordering virgin drinks as well, and for the expression of mildly exasperated annoyance on Juniper Hawke’s face.</p><p class="western">Another Defender, this one a lithe young woman whose ancestry clearly hailed from the Indian subcontinent, walked by on her way to the restrooms.</p><p class="western">“Hey, Vash the Flash!” Vulcan called. “Come sit with us!”</p><p class="western">The woman looked uncomfortable. “Thank you, but no. My seat is at another table.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, nobody cares about that sort of thing! You don’t mind, do you,” he asked Megamind, then continued without waiting for a response. “Come on and pull up a chair!”</p><p class="western">“No thank you.”</p><p class="western">“Come on,” Vulcan insisted. “Don’t be shy.”</p><p class="western">“If the lady doesn’t want to sit down,” Megamind said firmly, “then she need not sit down.”</p><p class="western">Watching the other woman, Roxanne was almost certain Vash’s eyes flicked a momentary look of relieved gratitude toward the blue hero.</p><p class="western">“I’m only trying to be friendly,” Vulcan sounded slightly defensive.</p><p class="western">“Well, it’s coming across as a little creepy,” Roxanne informed him.</p><p class="western">“Geez, you don’t have to be such a—”</p><p class="western">“Choose your next word very, very carefully, Vulcan,” Megamind warned, his soft growl as cold and sharp as steel.</p><p class="western">The rest of the meal passed in near silence, conversation occurring only in fits and starts, until a dessert cart was rolled near for the diners to make their selections.</p><p class="western">Brendan Hawke, who at least was attempting to remain polite, asked Megamind what he would recommend.</p><p class="western">“Oh, Panukakku is a local specialty— a holdover from Northern European settlers and possibly Finland’s greatest contribution to American cuisine. The ones here are fantastic,” Metro City’s Defender suggested after glancing over the selection. “I prefer mine with lemon custard, but really, it's good with anything: blueberry compote, spiced rhubarb and apple confit— What?” he added to Roxanne, who was grinning at him.</p><p class="western">“You and Minion have been friends for far too long,” she informed him, earning a chuckle. At Brendan’s look, she explained: “You’d never guess it, but Minion is like some sort of super chef. He's actually catering dinner tomorrow.”</p><p class="western">“Really? You’re right. I wouldn’t have known,” Brendan admitted. “I’ll try the lemon, ah, what is it again? Panukakku?”</p><p class="western">“And I’ll have the brandied cherry trifle,” Vulcan said. Did his eyes glance for just the briefest moment toward Sparrow? Roxanne had to fight to keep her face neutral. He’d instantly gone for the only dessert containing alcohol. Obviously, the man really did have a problem, and he just as clearly knew that at least some of his companions were aware. Another expression of irritation flashed across the other woman’s face, and, for a brief second, Roxanne thought she’d say something. Brendan Hawke narrowed his eyes.</p><p class="western">Vulcan, however, seemed completely nonplussed, and ordered an Irish coffee to accompany his dessert.</p><p class="western">Lunch was followed by two presentations. The first, given by BrightShield, was informative enough to be reasonably engaging, but it couldn’t hold a candle to Megamind’s following talk on technological advancements and their uses in crime-fighting. Roxanne glowed with pride as her lover held his listeners entranced with intelligent commentary, contagious exuberance, and well-placed humor. One thing hadn't changed when Megamind had become a hero: he still knew how to put on a good show.</p><p class="western">The blue man was grinning as he climbed down from the stage following an unusually long and involved Q and A session. As he made his way toward Roxanne through the slowly dispersing crowd, a dark-skinned young man approached the alien to congratulate him. He was dressed in an azure and silver suit that looked more like a robot exoskeleton than a uniform.</p><p class="western">“That,” he said enthusiastically, “was an amazing presentation. Your ideas about powering tech using the earth’s electromagnetic field? Brilliant!”</p><p class="western">“Thank you,” Megamind smiled with sincerity. “It’s SonicStorm, correct?”</p><p class="western">“SonicStorm or Noah Danvers. But please, call me Noah. Or Sonic.”</p><p class="western">“Sonic,” the alien grinned. “And your uniform is blue.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind!” Roxanne objected, but the other hero was laughing.</p><p class="western">“Finally! Someone gets the joke!”</p><p class="western">“And thankfully that someone isn’t Sega,” Megamind chuckled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Noah. I believe you’ve met my fiancé, Roxanne?”</p><p class="western">“Charmed,” Noah shook Roxanne’s hand. “You’re a lucky man, Megamind.”</p><p class="western">“I couldn’t agree more,” the blue hero said.</p><p class="western">“Good answer,” Roxanne teased.</p><p class="western">“Genius,” Megamind reminded her, grinning and tapping one gloved finger on his bald head.</p><p class="western">She kissed his cheek. “That you are.”</p><p class="western">“I’ll say,” SonicStorm agreed. “Have you actually built anything that’s actually powered through Earth’s electromagnetism yet?”</p><p class="western">“It’s still in the design phase, I’m afraid, but as for the other alternative energy sources I mentioned, I have been using a form of synthetic photosynthesis to create fuel cells out of carbon dioxide and water for years, and most of my weapons use a rare form of crystal.”</p><p class="western">“Seriously? Wow, that is… Wow! That’s incredible! When you say ‘synthetic photosynthesis,’ you’re talking about a photo-catalytic conversion process, right? And I’m guessing the crystal fuel source involves amplifying phonons? I thought so!” He said at Megamind’s nod. “Amazing! Using phonons especially… I thought that sort of practical application of quantum mechanics was only theoretical at best! Do you know Doctor Mach-O?”</p><p class="western">“Not personally, no, but I’m familiar with some of his work,” Megamind answered. “I have a lot of respect for him, despite his frankly unfortunate codename.”</p><p class="western">SonicStorm laughed. “Yeah, I know, right? He claims it was a lot cooler back in the early eighties when he first adopted it, but I have my doubts.</p><p class="western">"As someone who grew up in the eighties, let me assure you: it still wasn't cool," Megamind chuckled.</p><p class="western">"I believe it. Anyway, I’m his sidekick— I’m here as his proxy since he couldn’t take time away from work at the moment— and, as you probably know, he’s an astrophysicist and aerospace engineer employed at SpaceTech. Let me tell you, he has built some incredible technology, but nothing as impressive as what you’re describing. I mean, that could be world-changing!”</p><p class="western">“Actually,” Roxanne offered. “Megamind has been trying to get some of that technology patented and find backers so it can be manufactured and made available to the public. We’ve had some trouble from certain politicians, though.”</p><p class="western">“Oilmen. I can imagine,” SonicStorm nodded. He turned back toward Megamind. “It might help to know the right people. Douglas— that's Mach-O— would be able to get you in contact with some big players that will be really interested in what you’re trying to do. He’d love to discuss all of this with you, too. But I’m warning you, only call him when you’ve got at least four hours to spend expanding on every minute detail and debating the value of every hypothesis!” he chuckled again.</p><p class="western">“Never fear, I can be a loquacious and argumentative as any scientist!” Megamind assured him with a laugh.</p><p class="western">“Yes,” Roxanne stated with mock seriousness. “Yes, you can.”</p><p class="western">“Hey!” Megamind chortled. “You’re not supposed to <em>agree</em> with me!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne ducked her head for a moment, hiding her snicker and tugging her features back into a serious expression. When she looked up, however, she could still feel humor glowing in her eyes.</p><p class="western">“Don’t agree with you,” she said flatly. “Ever. Got it.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, now you’re just being unreasonable,” he teased, kissing her cheek.</p><p class="western">Roxanne had to fight to hold her composure.  "I'm not being unreasonable," she stated.</p><p class="western">"Really, Miss Ritchi!  Are you disagreeing with me deliberately?"</p><p class="western">"I'm not disagreeing with you," Roxanne lost her battle, and a chuckle invaded her words.</p><p class="western">Megamind rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.  “As you can see, I’m not the only one that can be argumentative,” he said in a stage whisper to Noah. Roxanne playfully batted his arm.</p><p class="western">“Good to know!” SonicStorm was still chuckling.</p><p class="western">“So, tell me, <em>Sonic</em>,” Megamind grinned again. “Do you have the super-speed of your namesake?”</p><p class="western">“In this thing I do,” the younger man answered proudly. “High-velocity jet pack, strength-increasing hydraulics, on-board tactical systems, and that’s not even getting into the weapons systems.”</p><p class="western">“Impressive. Your own work?”</p><p class="western">“Mostly, yeah.”</p><p class="western">“Very impressive indeed! I notice you have return wires going back to the generator. I take it you’re using dynamos to convert kinetic energy into a power source?”</p><p class="western">“Wha— yes! Damn! I mean, uh, sorry, ma’am, <em>darn</em>.” Noah looked almost starstruck. “You mean you could tell that just by looking?”</p><p class="western">Megamind shrugged. “There’s no other logical reason to construct the wiring harness in that particular way. At the risk of sounding like a television dad, I’m going to make a suggestion. You should consider inserting a mobile protective barrier in the joints. If I can see the wires when you move, I could hit them, too.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, I tried, but the material restricted my movements too much.”</p><p class="western">“Ah! Well, I may be able to help you, there!” the blue hero gestured to his own suit. “This is a material of my own design: bulletproof, waterproof, anti-conductive, and as pliant as cloth! We should be able to fit a layer of it between your armor and the electrical components.”</p><p class="western">“Really?” Noah beamed. “Oh, man, that would be so awesome! If it’s not too much trouble, I mean,” he added, remembering his manners. “I know you’re probably really busy and all.”</p><p class="western">“It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. Depending on the construction of your suit, I should be able to do it in a day or two, assuming there’s no significant trouble in my city. May I?” the alien reached out one gloved hand toward the other man’s battle suit.</p><p class="western">“Yeah! Sure! It fits together here and here!” Noah stood still while Megamind, who seemed to have lost all concept of personal space in his enthusiasm, began examining the exoskeleton. “So,” the younger man asked after a moment. “How much energy can your fuel cells generate? I mean, you said you’ve been using it for years, so I’m guessing we’re not talking about something that’s still in the developmental phases.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, no, the invisible car runs entirely on fuel made by photo-catalytic conversion,” Megamind responded, lifting one of SonicStorm’s arms for a closer look. “This isn’t a typical titanium steel alloy.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, no, it’s a new alloy Doctor Mach-O helped develop for space flight. He invented a sort of controlled molecular disruption process to reorganize carbon molecules into a stronger configuration.”</p><p class="western">“Ah! So he’s basically integrated diamond allotropes into the metal. Brilliant! How does this work?”</p><p class="western">“Megamind, don’t poke the poor man.”</p><p class="western">“What? Oh, sorry.” The blue hero had been fiddling with what appeared to be some sort of holographic navigation system built into Noah’s helmet. The reporter was momentarily grateful, for the sake of everyone’s dignity, that there didn’t seem to be any particularly interesting components near more personal parts of the young man’s body. When her blue boyfriend’s intellect latched onto something new and fascinating, his attention became focused almost to the point of monomania.</p><p class="western">“It’s cool,” Noah assured him. “So you really do have an invisible car?” Noah looked like his birthday and Christmas had just hit all at once. “That’s incredible! Have you ever considered giving talks at some of the big universities? No, I guess you have to keep a lot of this secret... But you know I have to ask how that works! Is it a holographic illusion?”</p><p class="western">“Not exactly, although the premise has some similarities. I basically engineered a way to bend light around an object. There have been other inferior solutions, of course, but I wanted to ensure that objects behind the car appeared clearly and undistorted. It took some time to get the calculations correct, then I realized that I was approaching the issue the wrong way. You see…”</p><p class="western">As Megamind launched into a complex explanation, Roxanne gently touched his shoulder and whispered that she was going upstairs to check on Minion and Olivia before dinner. The blue hero nodded and squeezed her hand without even breaking the flow of his words. The reporter smiled and shook her head. Her lover was almost cute when he became this enthusiastic and animated. Now that he’d found someone intelligent to discuss things like quantum mechanics and engineering with, he would happily talk for hours.</p><p class="western">The spiral staircase leading to the third floor, where Megamind and Roxanne’s room was located, was original to the house, and was partially enclosed at the point it disappeared into the second story. That was why Roxanne was only a few steps away when she heard her name whispered.</p><p class="western">“…That Ritchi woman’s relationship with him is completely inappropriate,” one voice said. Was that Juniper Hawke? “There are supposed to be consequences for that sort of thing.”</p><p class="western">“Consequences for what sort of thing?” another woman asked blandly.</p><p class="western">“For a <em>damsel</em> dating a <em>supervillain!</em>”</p><p class="western">“He’s not, though.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, my God, Anna, you can be so naive. Did you <em>see</em> what he was wearing? Black leather and spikes? Really? What kind of hero wears that? Think about it. And that’s the exact same thing he wore when he was openly villainous. I think that should tell you something.”</p><p class="western">Anna Wong’s whisper sounded exasperated. “They’re just <em>clothes</em>, June.”</p><p class="western">“No, they’re more than that. They’re a <em>symbol</em>.”</p><p class="western">“Maybe they’re full of hidden technology, and he didn’t want to spend the time and money to make a whole new wardrobe, or maybe—”</p><p class="western">“Oh, so he builds all kinds of other things constantly but he can’t be bothered to make a new suit?”</p><p class="western">“<em>Or maybe</em>,” Anna said again more emphatically, “they’re just really comfortable.”</p><p class="western">“Why are you <em>defending</em> him?”</p><p class="western">“I’m not. I’m just saying there are a lot of other reasons he might want to keep the same suit, and we can’t jump to conclusions. I mean, it’s hard to argue with his numbers. He’s got the lowest crime rates in the entire League, so obviously he’s doing his job.”</p><p class="western">“For now. But what if he’s playing the long game?”</p><p class="western">“June, he already took over Metro City and then <em>gave it back</em>. Why would he do that if he wasn’t serious?” Anna sighed. “Look, whether you agree with it or not, the League officially recognizes him as a Defender, and that means neither he nor his damsel can be reprimanded for being romantically involved, so just let it go, alright? It’s none of our business anyway.”</p><p class="western">“You’re assuming their relationship started when they made it public.”</p><p class="western">“You know what? I’m <em>done</em> with this conversation.”</p><p class="western">“Seriously, have you ever looked up the footage from those abductions? The man called her his ‘Temptress.’ On camera. <em>And she flirted back</em>.”</p><p class="western">“So they might have been physically attracted to each other. So what? It doesn’t mean they were sleeping together.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, come on,” scoffed Juniper. “She was probably letting him get his dick wet for years before he supposedly saw the light.”</p><p class="western">“You know,” the other woman said caustically. “Some of us actually <em>don’t</em> drop our panties for any man who asks.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, like you've never—”</p><p class="western">“I made a mistake. Once. And I’m not married.”</p><p class="western">“Don’t be such an uppity bitch, Anna!”</p><p class="western">“Now, I’ll say it again: <em>I am done with this conversation</em>.”</p><p class="western">Footsteps approached, and Roxanne quickly slipped back down the stairs. She wandered toward Megamind, trying to look casual, but something in her face must have given her away because her lover looked a question at her.</p><p class="western">“Later,” she mouthed as she drew near him.</p><p class="western">He raised his eyebrows slightly but nodded, then glanced over his lover's shoulder before quickly looking away. Roxanne didn’t have to look to be certain that Anna Wong had just come down the stairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Baby, B.B.A.D.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“So Juniper Hawke thinks we were intimate while I was a supervillain?” Megamind asked in their room later that night. “And she— what? Is advocating to see you somehow punished because of it?” He rolled his vibrant green eyes and shook his head. “I am beginning to feel as if everyone at this conference has an agenda. It almost makes me long for the bad old days and the company of supervillains. They may have been a pack of anarchists and seditionists, but at least they were usually transparent about their plotting.”</p><p class="western">“Has something happened, Love?”</p><p class="western">“Dirk the Jerk happened,” he answered, unlacing his boots.</p><p class="western">“Dirk the— oh, that’s a good one!” Roxanne laughed. “That’s absolutely <em>terrible!</em>” She reigned in her humor, although she could still feel it shining in her eyes. “Seriously, though, I know the man is as fake as a three-dollar bill, but that’s not a reason to give up on heroes in general.”</p><p class="western">“And if that were indeed all he had done, I would hardly be so disparaging,” Megamind agreed. “I would then find him nothing worse than annoying. But I’m afraid that isn’t the case.”</p><p class="western">She was looking at him with concern now. “What did he do?”</p><p class="western">“This evening, after my second discourse with Noah—” Megamind and the younger man had continued their enthusiastic conversation about biochemical technology and theoretical physics over glasses of scotch following dinner— “Captain Dirk,” he grinned at her giggle, “approached me when I started upstairs. It seems his frankly creepy hero-worship of Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes is even worse than I suspected.”</p><p class="western">“I’m not sure I’m following you.”</p><p class="western">“He seemed… <em>extremely interested</em> in the DNA I extracted from Metro Man two years ago, and rather pointedly suggested that the best thing to do, really the <em>only</em> thing, was to inject it into, and I quote, ‘a worthy hero,’ thus preventing it from falling into the wrong hands.”</p><p class="western">“Uh-huh. And I’m betting that by ‘a worthy hero’ Dirk meant himself.”</p><p class="western">“Exactly. I tried to be polite at first, but I finally had to refuse him rather firmly, and he made it clear, without actually saying it, that he considers me to be the ‘wrong hands.’”</p><p class="western">“Do you think he’s going to cause trouble?”</p><p class="western">“I don’t know, Love. What I <em>do</em> know is that between Dirk the Jerk’s power-mongering and Vulcan’s apparent inability to comprehend the word <em>no</em>, I’m starting to feel like this conference is filled with miscreants hiding behind capes and popularity.”</p><p class="western">“Not all of them, Darling. I won’t say Anna is friendly toward us— I don’t know her well enough yet— but at least she argued in your favor, and Noah definitely seems nice.”</p><p class="western">“I thought so, but, with everything else that’s happened, I’m starting to wonder if he’s only pumping me for information and planning to steal some of my inventions.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind, Sweetheart, look at me,” she cupped his face. “I need you to stop, okay? You’re nervous, we’re both stressed, and the other Defenders are turning out to have feet of clay— ”</p><p class="western">“Feet of— Come again?”</p><p class="western">“It’s an expression, Love. My point is that people aren’t perfect, not even heroes. Maybe especially heroes. Stress and celebrity can sometimes conspire to make people do some truly stupid things. But even so, you can’t assume everyone is the same just because a few of them are. I don’t know Noah, but I do know that I didn’t get any dishonest vibes from him. And trust me, after this many years as a reporter, I’m really good at picking up on vibes.”</p><p class="western">“I know, I know. I’m being paranoid— God, I’m still such a disaster sometimes— but you can hardly blame me.”</p><p class="western">“Of course I don’t blame you,” She hugged him close. “You’ve had to put up with mistreatment and misunderstanding since you were just a kid. It’s only natural you’d be cautious. That’s not a bad thing, really, especially given your job description, but… It can be taken too far. Don’t let shitty people make you turn your back on the sincerely good ones, too.”</p><p class="western">“I’ll try, but this is difficult. I think I have a new respect for Metro Man. He may be a goody-two-shoes, but he does try to be truly good. Apparently, that’s rarer than I thought among heroes. And now you tell me that Sparrow Hawke is taking aim at you because of our relationship.” His brow furrowed with worry again, and he gently cupped her face, looking sincerely into her eyes. “Roxanne, Beloved, tell me honestly: is… Is being with me causing you some kind of… problem?”</p><p class="western">“No, Darling, of course not,” she smoothed his worried brow and then leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips. “It wouldn’t even if you <em>were</em> still a supervillain. I never joined the American Damsel Society. They were always sending me letters and emails, even calling occasionally, but I felt like it would be a waste of time and money. I mean, I’m sure it’s really useful for some women— they provide health insurance, support groups, and even legal assistance in the rare cases that supervillains cross the line— but I never needed any of their services. I never felt like I was in any danger with you, and you certainly never hurt me.” She smiled at him and cupped his cheek. “You even threw yourself on top of me that time Hot Flash attacked during one of your more public plots. Do you remember?”</p><p class="western">“Vividly,” he growled. “It took all of my self-control not to drag that hag away and feed her to the alligators. Although I’ve had to stun or dehydrate a few, I have never yet hit a woman, but I came close that day.”</p><p class="western">“I could tell. You were like a thunderstorm, you were so angry. That’s when I consciously realized for the first time that I felt safer with you than anywhere else in the city. It was as if you were my black knight, my dark protector. Can I tell you a secret?” Roxanne leaned closer and lowered her voice. “It was very, very sexy.”</p><p class="western">“Mmm… Was it indeed?” he purred. “Well, my delectable Temptress, hero though I may be, I will always remain your Dark Protector.”</p><p class="western">He kissed her, pulling her close, and she could feel his body growing ready. Reluctantly, Roxanne pulled back before they could get carried away.</p><p class="western">“There’s something else,” she told her blue lover. “It may be nothing, but it sort of bothers me.”</p><p class="western">“What is it, Love?”</p><p class="western">“Just something Anna said. She intimated that Juniper has had extra-marital affairs. Something about it… I just get the feeling it was with someone in the League. Given that we suspect Vulcan has been harassing Black Cat, I have to wonder. If Vulcan has been pushing himself on female Defenders, something needs to be said.”</p><p class="western">“Do we have any evidence?”</p><p class="western">“I wish I did.”</p><p class="western">The blue hero nodded. “I can tell BrightShield about what we witnessed earlier tonight, and let him know our concerns. Maybe you could try to talk to Anna Wong?”</p><p class="western">“I’ll try. She at least seems reasonable.”</p><p class="western">“Then we’ll attend to it tomorrow. In the meantime…” Megamind moved suddenly, and the room blurred. Roxanne found herself bouncing against the mattress as she was thrown to the bed. She looked up in time to see him press something on the insignia at his throat. His portable boombox flared to life and the sounds of an Iron Maiden playlist filled the room. A moment later, Megamind was looming over his lover, hands pinning her wrists above her.</p><p class="western">The former villain rumbled his best evil laugh. “I have you in my clutches now, Miss Ritchi.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, Megamind,” she breathed. “Are you going to do something wicked to me?”</p><p class="western">The blue man leaned down, nipping and sucking at her neck between words. “Horribly, deliciously evil.”</p><p class="western">“And if I resist your nefarious plot?” the reporter asked, her voice breathless.</p><p class="western">“Mmmm,” he moved to nibble her ear, his lips and warm breath caressing her skin with every word. “You dare defy Megamind?” his voice was a dark rumble. “Resistance is futile, my Sweet. I believe you will find I can be very, very… persuasive.”</p><p class="western">He began kissing his way across her collar bone, shifting to hold both of her wrists together while his free hand moved to unbutton her dress blouse. His fingers slid around to deftly unfasten her bra, and he tossed it aside. His lips trailed fire across the swell of her heaving bosom and captured one nipple as his hand moved lower, sliding under her suit skirt to rub her through her underwear. Roxanne moaned.</p><p class="western">Giving the peak of her breast one last firm tug, Megamind lifted his head a couple of inches and rolled bright green eyes up to her.</p><p class="western">“Do you surrender?” he asked, voice deep and husky, mouth pulled into a shamelessly sexy smirk.</p><p class="western">“Never,” she gasped as he pressed harder against her bundle of nerves.</p><p class="western">“Indeed,” he growled. “Well, well, just remember, my Dear Miss Ritchi,” his voice dropped to a deep rumble. “<em>You have brought this upon yourself.</em>”</p><p class="western">The blue alien’s arm jerked and, with a ripping sound, he tore her panties away. Surging lower, he buried his face between her thighs, mouth latching onto her clit, lips and tongue and even teeth working with expert and exuberant ardor. He grasped her hips with one hand and plunged the fingers of the other deep inside her, alternately bending and straightening the digits to hit first her g-spot and then a delightfully sensitive place deeper inside. She ran her nails along the back of his large head, and his humming growl vibrated against her. Roxanne moans rose to screams, her body shaking and her head thrashing, as he drove her to one climax after another.</p><p class="western">“Megamind! Oh, God, yes! Megamind!”</p><p class="western">Only after he had reduced her to a shivering puddle of sparking nerves, leaving her limbs feeling trembling and loose, did the blue man relent, sitting back and stripping off his shirt. Catching her eye, he deliberately ran strong, slender blue hands down his slimly muscled torso. He stopped just at the clasp of his belt, a slow, teasingly wanton grin creeping onto his face and one eyebrow raised in playful challenge.</p><p class="western">“Do you want it?” he purred, stroking the impressive bulge stretching his tight pants.</p><p class="western">“Yes,” she fairly panted. “Fuck yes.”</p><p class="western">“How much?”</p><p class="western">“So much. God, so, so much.”</p><p class="western">His fingers played idly with the metal closure at his waist. “Tell me,” he commanded, voice deep and reverberant with desire.</p><p class="western">“Please, Megamind! I need you! I need to feel you inside of me!”</p><p class="western">Clicking his tongue in mock rebuke, the blue alien briefly shifted his expression to a reproachful moue. “No, no, that won’t do at all. Why, my Dear, I <em>have</em> been inside you. Where do you think my fingers have been this past half-hour?” That familiar, toe-curling, predatory grin spread across his features once more. “I am afraid,” he continued, his tone making her tremble and tighten, “that you are going to have to be far more specific.” He leaned over her, one hand braced against the mattress, his posture radiating animal dominance. “Exactly <em>what part</em> of me do you want inside you?”</p><p class="western">Megamind’s very presence seemed to throb with a barely contained sexual energy that threatened to break over her like a storm. Roxanne could feel her breath coming in gasps, the nerves in her nether region sparking with recent pleasure and demanding need. Her hips rose of their own will, trying to rub her aching part against the hard bulge he held mere inches out of reach.</p><p class="western">“Oh, no, no, no,” he teasingly admonished, leaning back and capturing her hands as she tried to unfasten his belt herself. “You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne nearly sobbed with frustrated need.</p><p class="western">“Please,” she begged again. “Please, Megamind! I need your cock! I need you to fuck me! Please, please fuck me!”</p><p class="western">“As you wish,” he growled, deft fingers finally flicking open the belt and unzipping his leather pants enough to free his straining manhood. He impatiently shoved the material down, practically flung her knees over his shoulders, and, one hand guiding his shaft, pushed himself deep inside of her.</p><p class="western">Roxanne clung to him, biting and sucking his sensitive neck to make him growl.</p><p class="western">“Is this what you want?!” he asked as he began pounding her savagely into the bed. “You want to get <em>FUCKED?!</em>”</p><p class="western">“Yes! Yes! GOD YES!”</p><p class="western">Iron Maiden’s <em>The Trooper</em> started playing, and Megamind matched his thrusts to the tempo, grinding and tilting his hips in time to the music as he hammered her g-spot, hit her cervix, and slammed against an achingly pleasurable place halfway between. The first time Roxanne had ever seen his erection, she’d called it “a living sex toy,” and the description was accurate. Not only was the alien impressively large, but he had wonderfully textured skin tracing raised ridges along his length as well as the head of his penis and a swollen bulge near the base that was just right for hitting her clit. After more than a year of sharing carnal delights with his lover, he knew exactly how to use those masculine blessings to the greatest effect. Every movement of his swollen cock sent electric jolts of ecstasy surging through Roxanne’s nerves.</p><p class="western">“Fuck, yes, Megamind! Harder! Harder! Please! Harder!”</p><p class="western">The blue man obediently increased his force, ravaging her with nearly merciless passion. Roxanne’s nail scrabbled for purchase against his sweat-soaked back. The slap of bare skin and the frantic thumps of the headboard were lost beneath stormy music and shrieks of sexual rapture.</p><p class="western">“That’s right, Temptress!” Megamind growled. “Scream for me! Come on! Come on! I want to hear you scream!”</p><p class="western">The song changed to Transylvania, and Megamind’s thrust became faster and wilder still. Roxanne wailed with pleasure, head thrown back, body tightening as she came. Still, her blue lover rode her with single-minded determination, taking her to ever higher peaks of ecstasy. At last, she felt every muscle in his body stiffen and convulse, heard his shout of pleasure echo through the room. Incredibly, he kept thrusting, a second orgasm following close on the heels of the first.</p><p class="western">“Fuck! Roxanne! Fuck! Fuck! Oh, God, FUCK!” The blue man’s voice rose to a roar as he pumped one last stream of hot semen into his lover.</p><p class="western">Gasping and trembling, they finally came down from their euphoria. Megamind rolled off of Roxanne, grunting with the effort, and groped over the edge of the bed for his cloak. Pulling it up, he fumbled for the insignia broach, and the music went quiet.</p><p class="western">“That… was… fantastic,” he informed his lover between lungfuls of air. “God… that was… fantastic.”</p><p class="western">She made a noise of agreement, voice hoarse and dry from so much screaming.</p><p class="western">“Drink?” he asked, already pushing himself up to a sitting position. Roxanne nodded, and he rose on unsteady legs before stumbling to retrieve two glass bottles of water from the miniature refrigerator under the room’s wet bar. He set one bottle on the nightstand and opened the other before handing it to her.</p><p class="western">“Thank you,” she croaked.</p><p class="western">He nodded, already gulping water from his own bottle. Roxanne followed suit, half emptying her drink before pausing for breath.</p><p class="western">“Better?” her lover inquired, sliding back under the covers and stretching his lean frame against her side.</p><p class="western">She took one more swallow. “Much better.”</p><p class="western">“Good.” Megamind gently took the bottle from her and set it beside his own. “Come here,” he added, pulling her into his arms and tucking the blankets more securely around her. “Are you warm enough?”</p><p class="western">“Mmmm-hmmm,” she settled her head against his chest and draped one arm over his lean stomach. Then she giggled. “Thank goodness for honeymoon suites,” she grinned sleepily when Megamind raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Otherwise we would have wakened up the whole place.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed.” He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, Sweetheart. I love you.”</p><p class="western">“I love you too. And not just because you’re a god between the sheets,” she added with a yawn. He laughed and kissed her again before settling back to rest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Dead Defender</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>This chapter contains my first attempt at writing a crime scene.  Please leave me some feedback to let me know how I'm doing!  Thank you!</b>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">The next day of the conference was, thankfully, less eventful, with the only excitement coming in the form of arguments breaking out during a four-hour meeting to discuss League business, and guests being enthusiastically impressed by Minion's culinary prowess. (Saturday had been his agreed-upon day to cater dinner, and the henchfish had outdone himself, as usual.) Megamind had spoken with the hotel manager and members of the staff that morning, changing the seating arrangements so that Vulcan spent breakfast and lunch at all-male tables. During dinner, the troublesome Defender was placed right between BrightShield and Clarissa Childers. Roxanne was pleased to note from across the room that the man didn’t consume a single drop of alcohol or cast a single lewd look at passing women throughout the entire meal.</p><p class="western">On Sunday morning, thunder broke into Roxanne’s dreams and something jerked beneath her. She snapped upright in bed to find Megamind already leaping to his feet and struggling into his black pants.</p><p class="western">“Sir! Sir!” Minion was calling from beyond the door. “You need to come quick!”</p><p class="western">Sharp, icy panic ripped through Roxanne like shrapnel. <em>Oh, God! Olivia!</em></p><p class="western">Her lover clearly shared her concern. He raced to the door without bothering with the rest of his clothes and flung it open.</p><p class="western">“What is it?! What’s happened?! Is Livy alright?!”</p><p class="western">“No, no! I mean yes! She’s fine, Sir! It’s Mr. Mason Wyatt!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne’s brain, buzzing from a mixture of shock, relief, and weariness, had to scramble to catch up.</p><p class="western">“Mason Wyatt? As in Vulcan?”</p><p class="western">“Yes! Yes, ma’am! Vulcan!” Minion was practically wringing his mechanical hands. Roxanne had never seen him so out of sorts. It said something about the sidekick’s state of mind that he hadn’t even apologized for invading their privacy.</p><p class="western">“Curse him!” Megamind growled, pulling on a RUSH 2112 t-shirt. “What has he done now?”</p><p class="western">“Oh, no Sir! It’s not what he’s done but what’s been done to <em>him!</em> Sir, he’s been <em>murdered!</em>”</p><p class="western">The entire room froze, soundless and breathless as if time itself had stopped.</p><p class="western">“Murdered?” Roxanne breathed finally. She’d heard wrong. She <em>had</em> to have heard wrong.</p><p class="western">“Yes, Ma’am,” The fish looked miserable. He began walking to and fro, clasping and stretching his metallic fingers in nervous, twitchy movements. “That’s bad enough on its own— a tragedy!— but for it to happen <em>now</em>, during a League function in Metro City when Sir is trying to win the trust of other Defenders… Oh, this is <em>terrible</em><em>!</em> What are we going to do?!”</p><p class="western">“We are going to analyze, address, and resolve the situation,” Megamind said with a firm calmness that Roxanne envied. “Is there no room for doubt of it being homicide?” he added, pulling on his undershirt and boots.</p><p class="western">“None whatsoever, Sir. I wish there was, but Mr. Williamson, Vulcan’s sidekick, found him. He’s badly shaken. I’m told the scene is bad.”</p><p class="western">“Right,” Megamind clapped his hands decisively. “Right. Then the first thing we have to do is contact the MCPD.  I'll need to have a personal interest in this case.  Then we'll call a meeting and form a plan. Beyond the demands of justice— I might not have liked Vulcan, but nobody gets away with murder in my town, curse it!— this also has the potential to become a bureaucratic nightmare. Someone has taken a life under our very noses, and, whether they intend it to or not, that damages not only my credibility but the reputation of the League as a whole. We need to deal with this quickly and proactively.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne stopped in the process of trying to reach her skirt while remaining under the blankets to cover her modesty. “Do you think that was the motive?”</p><p class="western">“It’s too early to make any assumptions,” Megamind answered, finding her robe in a drawer and handing it to her. “But that is one possibility that occurs to me. Minion, I want you to pack Olivia’s things and take her home to the Lair. She’s seen more than enough trauma for her age already. Brainbots!” he ordered into his holowatch. “Come help Mommy.” He turned back to his lover. “They’ll bring you whatever you need to get ready, Sweetheart. Afterward—”</p><p class="western">There was a knock on the door, and Megamind motioned to a brainbot to open it. A tall, thin man wearing a navy suit and a seemingly ubiquitous five o’clock shadow came in.</p><p class="western">“Detective Tully,” Megamind nodded. “I take it you’ve been pulled from the Missing Person’s Division?”</p><p class="western">Murder was almost unknown in Metro City, so much so that the MCPD hadn't bothered promoting another detective to the division when one of the two dedicated homicide investigators had become only semi-active.</p><p class="western">“I got transferred, actually.  Detective Eskola is finally retiring for real.  Health reasons, or so he says, but I think his wife put her foot down,” the other man’s grin was a little weak. “So I'm his new replacement. Price I pay for doing too good of work, I guess.”</p><p class="western">“I thought you wanted to be in homicide?”</p><p class="western">“I did. I still do.”</p><p class="western">“You don’t look as if it suits you,” the alien observed.</p><p class="western">“Well, it’s a hell of a scene for my first case,” Tully admitted a little sheepishly.</p><p class="western">“Is it that bad?”</p><p class="western">“It’s… Pretty messy. Victim’s brains got bludgeoned out.”</p><p class="western">“Ah. Never a pleasant sight.”</p><p class="western">Tully looked at him. “Yeah, I guess when you were a crime boss, you must have seen some shit, huh?”</p><p class="western">Neither Roxanne nor Megamind, of course, enlightened the man concerning the blue hero’s continued control over Metro City’s underworld. Roxanne had thought it strange when she’d first learned that her lover was still the Criminal Mastermind, but he had explained that it was the only way to efficiently regulate crime. In fact, as she’d learned over a year ago, the blue hero had used his position as de facto ruler of the city’s underbelly to minimize violence and restrict narcotics sales for decades before he became the local Defender.</p><p class="western">“Not as much as you may think, but still more than I care to recall sometimes,” Megamind answered.</p><p class="western">“Do you ever get used to it?”</p><p class="western">“You eventually learn to treat it with more… detachment, and even become somewhat desensitized to the horror of it over time, but I can’t say you ever really grow accustomed to it. There would be something… <em>unwell</em> about you if you did.”</p><p class="western">The other man nodded. “Well, I’m afraid I may have to ask you to see more of it, Blue.”</p><p class="western">That got Megamind’s attention. “There’s something wrong with the scene,” he stated more than asked.</p><p class="western">Detective Tully nodded. “I’m working with Andersen on this one— you’ve met Andersen, haven’t you?— and even with his seventeen years in homicide, he can’t put his finger on it. Something about the scene is just… Off. The measurements, the splatter, the position of the body… All of it is fine, textbook even, and yet there is <em>something </em>about it that’s not quite right. I thought it was just me, but Andersen agreed when I told him, but damned if we can figure out what’s gnawing on us. We really need you to come take a look.”</p><p class="western">"While I’m— well, not <em>happy</em> to help, exactly; only a madman would be happy to look at corpses— but while I’m certainly willing to be of assistance, I have to ask: what’s different about this one? Of course, I understand this is an unusual situation, given Vulcan's identity, but I get the feeling there’s more behind this than that. I’m sure the political types are eager to see whoever embarrassed Metrocity on the national stage caught. Even so, I don’t usually get called in this early in an investigation unless it’s especially time-sensitive: rescuing abductees or stopping a murder <em>before</em> it happens. Vulcan is already dead. So what is it? What’s different? Why call in a Defender when you have several professionals specifically trained for this sort of thing? This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”</p><p class="western">“That’s just it, Blue,” Tully answered gravely. “We think it might be.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed,” The hero nodded. “You suspect this is the work of a supervillain?”</p><p class="western">“We don’t know.”</p><p class="western">“It hardly seems to fit the usual standard. Speaking from experience, supervillains are, above all else, showmen. Or show-women. They are akin to terrorists in that they want to gain attention and sow fear. So why would a villain kill a hero in secret?” he paused. “Of course, while it may lack the usual drama, this certainly <em>does</em> create an environment of extreme anxiety. To murder one’s archnemesis in a building full of Defenders without getting caught… That does seem as if the perpetrator wanted to send a message, doesn’t it?”</p><p class="western">“You’re the expert in that field. I just know something about the scene is rubbing us all the wrong way. Will you come?”</p><p class="western">“Of course,” the blue man said. “Minion!” he added into his holowatch.</p><p class="western">“Yes, Sir?” the henchfish’s voice responded after a moment.</p><p class="western">“I know you’re busy, but I need you to keep an eye on chatter in the underworld as well as any news stations available here or in Tennessee.”</p><p class="western">“You’ve got it, Boss! Anything particular I’m looking for?”</p><p class="western">“Yes, it’s a long shot, but I want to know if anyone claims responsibility for Vulcan’s demise.” He turned back to the other two. “If this <em>is</em> the work of a supervillain, they’ll want people to know about it. They won’t remain quiet for long. In the meantime, we’ll see what we can learn from the scene.”s</p><p class="western">Roxanne stood up. “I’ll just change into something more appropriate,” she said, plucking at the hem of her suit skirt.</p><p class="western">“Now, hold on,” Detective Tully said. “I know you helped the Defender on the Ares Case, but we’re talking about a murder scene here. I can’t just let the press walk in.”</p><p class="western">“I won’t be joining you as a member of the press.”</p><p class="western">“Roxanne is technically my secondary sidekick. I can provide copies of the paperwork if you like,” Megamind interjected. Roxanne was careful not to let her surprise show. While she had, in fact, functioned as his assistant in the past, she wasn’t aware that he had officially registered her with the League. “Her status grants her access to crime scenes,” the blue hero continued. His gaze was fixed on his lover’s eyes, and Roxanne understood that his statement was as much an explanation to her as it was a statement to Tully. “As my primary sidekick is currently unavailable for personal reasons, that leaves Miss Ritchi to fill that role during this investigation.”</p><p class="western">“I don’t know, Blue… I told you: this one’s messy.”</p><p class="western">“I understand that,” the Defender said. “Roxanne, Sweetheart, this decision is entirely up to you. Are you sure this is something you want to see?”</p><p class="western">“Like you said, I don’t think any of us really <em>want</em> to see this,” answered Roxanne. “But I <em>do</em> want to be there to help you. I might not like this, but it isn’t as if I’ve never seen anything terrible in my years as a reporter. I can handle it.”</p><p class="western">“But—” Tully began.</p><p class="western">“Roxanne is an intelligent, capable woman,” there was a hint of fond pride beneath Megamind’s stern expression. “If she says she can handle this, then she can handle it.”</p><p class="western">Outside the room, cordoned off with police tape, Roxanne pulled on white disposable coveralls that reminded her inanely of children’s footie pajamas, along with a matching mask and blue latex gloves. Megamind quickly gave up trying to pull the hood of his own papery bodysuit over his large head, and he and his lover were finally admitted to the crime scene. The officer standing guard at the yellow police tape gave Detective Tully a questioning look when Roxanne moved to follow her fiancé, but the older man simply waved her through with a nod. Inside, the first thing that struck Roxanne about the scene was the smell: something like a cross between a hospital ward and the odor of ground meat. Something about it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.</p><p class="western">Megamind moved closer to his lover’s side. “If this is too much,” he whispered. “If you change your mind, just hold down the hour stem of your holowatch for three seconds. It will send me an alert, and I’ll use it as a pretense to get you out of there.”</p><p class="western">The reporter nodded wordlessly, but set her jaw in determination.</p><p class="western">
  <em>I can do this. For Megamind, I will find a way to do this.</em>
</p><p class="western">Inside, the scene was largely normal. Carved oak furniture, a reproduction Victorian vine leaf wallpaper, and plush green carpets had given this particular suite the name “the Forest Room.” The table stood undisturbed, a single glass and a mostly empty whiskey bottle on its surface. Two overstuffed armchairs stood near the window, Vulcan’s red and gold uniform thrown over the back of one. Someone had had the wisdom to close the velvet curtains. Everything looked eerily, disconcertingly ordinary… Until, of course, Roxanne’s eyes roved to the bed.</p><p class="western">Red. That was the only thing Roxanne’s mind registered at first, her instincts shying away from any other details. The sheets were soaked.  The ornate wooden headboard and the wall were all splattered with droplets climbing high above... the thing on the bed. Gritting her teeth, the reporter forced herself to focus on more details: a bare leg and one arm hanging partway off the mattress.  A naked chest, all ghastly pale beneath a heavy scattering of bright drops. The pale green sheets were soaked, the edges of the pool starting to darken. On the pillow at the very edge of the bed was a messy lump something that Roxanne’s brain refused to acknowledge was a human head. She felt her stomach churn.</p><p class="western"><em>Be clinical</em>, she reminded herself, throat working in quick little swallows to control her gag reflex. <em>Slow, shallow breaths. Focus on one thing at a time.</em></p><p class="western">The body—she couldn't think of it as Vulcan anymore—was lying on its stomach, half turned on its right side, at the very edge of the large sleigh bed.  The left side of the skull had been largely destroyed, and—Roxanne gulped down the nausea threatening to rise from her stomach—part of the face had been bashed in.</p><p class="western">Realizing she was staring, Roxanne moved to examine the rest of the room. She frowned at the liquor bottle on the table— exactly how much had Vulcan drunk that night?— then stopped suddenly.</p><p class="western">“Megamind, come take a look at this.”</p><p class="western">“What is it, Sweetheart?” he walked over to join her. “What did you find?”</p><p class="western">She pointed at two overlapping pale circles on the wood opposite Vulcan’s used glass. “The marks are faint, but there’s a moisture ring here.”</p><p class="western">Tully came to join them. “I’ll be damned. Hey, Valdez, who was supposed to do the table?!” he motioned to one of the forensic techs. “Come take a photo of this!”</p><p class="western">“So Vulcan wasn’t alone last night,” Megamind mused, green eyes roving over the scene.</p><p class="western">“That’s what we think, too,” Andersen agreed. “No sign of forced entry, killed in his bed… The victim knew the perpetrator.”</p><p class="western">"A love affair gone wrong?" the blue man asked.  Roxanne had been wondering the same thing.</p><p class="western">"No Idea, Defender.  See the way the blood splatter is angled above the bed?"</p><p class="western">Roxanne watched as her lover studied the mess for a moment.  "Ah, yes, I see... Distance then between extreme opposite drops divided by the distance between the nearest adjacent drops... then calculate the height of the parabolic arc... tangent of the angles divided by the horizontal distances..."</p><p class="western">He flicked a small grease pencil out of one of the narrow compartments on his belt and began scribbling numbers on the wall.</p><p class="western">"Uh, Blue, I don't think you can do that," Tully protested.</p><p class="western">Megamind shrugged.  "They'll have to clean and repaint the walls anyway," he said without pausing his work.</p><p class="western">"No, I mean, this is a <em>murder scene</em>."</p><p class="western">"Ah, well, just take note that the murderer was not the one calculating splatter patterns on the wall," the hero cast a wicked grin over his shoulder at the other man.  "And if anyone gives you trouble over it, tell them they're welcome to come and take it up with me." </p><p class="western">" But we've already had someone—"</p><p class="western">"I know you have.  I'm the one who built the handheld scanner and wrote all the codes and algorithms, remember?  But I still prefer to do my own calculations."   He finished and looked over the equations, then turned to regard the bloody wall again.   "There's a gap, and given the angles, it should have been covered.  So our killer was standing right beside the bed.  They struck with a lot of force.  Tried to erase his face, too," he looked back at the detectives.  "This was done with an enormous amount of hatred."</p><p class="western">"You can say that again, Blue.  We were kind of hoping you might be able to tell us who harbored that kind of animosity for the victim."</p><p class="western">"That, I'm afraid, is more difficult than you think.  I'm afraid Vulcan had made himself rather unpopular with several people."</p><p class="western">"Unpopular enough that they'd want to kill him?"</p><p class="western">"That I can't answer yet.  There are too many variables involved.  'Enough to kill' isn't a standard unit of measurement," he shrugged in response to the other men's looks.  "I don't know the other Defenders well enough to judge what that means for each of them specifically.  But I will.  Although I have the highest opinion of your abilities, I'd like to question them privately as well.  I might be able to connect a few dots."</p><p class="western">Despite struggling to keep her breathing, composure, and stomach all in check, Roxanne still noticed the men's reaction to that.  Or rather the lack thereof.</p><p class="western">"You think he's right," she stated.</p><p class="western">Andersen looked at her.</p><p class="western">"About it being a Defender, I mean," the reporter explained.  "You're not surprised.  Most people would have been at least a little shocked to hear one Defender saying another was a murderer, but you're not.  And it's not just because of the personal nature of the crime, either."  The last statement was a guess based on her well-honed instincts, but it was a good one.</p><p class="western">"That's a hell of a girl you got there, Defender," Andersen said.  "You ever get tired of reporting news, Miss Ritchi, and you might just make a good cop.  Yeah, we think he's right, or at least that's one of our two working theories, and there's more to it than the personal angle.  Take a look at the floor near the bed."</p><p class="western">Megamind, probably sensing Roxanne's repulsion at the idea, strode over to do it instead.</p><p class="western">"We'll still need the names of your suspects, Blue," Tully informed him. </p><p class="western">"Of course.  I'll be happy to provide them.</p><p class="western">"Judging by the blood splatter and what little we can make out of the wounds," Andersen said, "we think he was hit with something heavy, with a round striking surface."</p><p class="western">"A hammer," the blue hero nodded his understanding. He was preoccupied, leaning down to look closer at the carpet. Moving nearer to the bed and its gory contents, he bent low again, gaze moving rapidly across the floor.</p><p class="western">“Footprints!” he cried, standing straight. “Where are the footprints?!”</p><p class="western">“Exactly.  The killer didn’t leave any blood transfer patterns on the floor,” answered Tully.</p><p class="western">“Obviously! But <em>how?</em> Look at the angle of the blows!” the blue hero explained, moving close enough to Vulcan’s ruined skull that Roxanne had to look away. “Most of the damage is to the face and the right temple, and as we’ve established, he was in bed when it happened!”</p><p class="western">“We know that, Blue. That's the whole problem.  And that's not the only one.”</p><p class="western">“Incredible!” said Megamind. “All this blood, and yet no footprints! The few marks I see are from <em>covered</em> feet, feet wearing police coveralls, and they're fresh!” He studied the floor again. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Andersen, but tracks made at the time of death would have started discoloring by now, wouldn’t they? So where are they?"</p><p class="western">"I wish I knew.  How did our killer walk through a blood-soaked carpet and leave no footprints?” asked Tully.</p><p class="western">"You don't,"  Megamind said.  "I see why you would suspect a League member, but as far as I know, no one here has the ability to levitate."</p><p class="western">“Maybe the weapon was on a long pole?” one of the techs, a young woman, suggested.  She was dressed in full forensic gear, leaving little but her eyes visible, but Roxanne guessed from her voice and the shade of her brows that she would be twenty-something, blonde, and probably new to the team.</p><p class="western">Andersen slowly turned his head to regard the tech as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard.  "A polearm, Vanick?  Really?" he asked dryly.  "You think the perp walked out of here undetected carrying a damned <em>war hammer?"  </em> </p><p class="western">What little of Vanick's face Roxanne could see turned pink, and the reporter winced a little in sympathy.  <em>Yep.  She's as green as grass.</em></p><p class="western">"Don't worry," she offered quietly.  "First-year internships are always rough.  And don't mind Andersen.  He's mostly bark and almost no bite."</p><p class="western">"How did you know I was a new intern?"</p><p class="western">"Megamind told me," Roxanne lied.  She wasn't about to tell the poor girl that she had "hapless novice" written all over her.</p><p class="western">“Aside from the difficulty of concealment, that would also be too unwieldy. We’d see signs of it in the wounds. I'm no expert, but judging from what I can see of the skull damage, it looks like the strikes were mostly straight up and down, no wobbling.” Megamind turned to the detectives. "Am I right?"</p><p class="western">"That's my guess, too," Andersen responded.</p><p class="western">“From your earlier comment, I take it the murder weapon hasn’t been found?”</p><p class="western">“No, not yet,” Tully answered.  "That and the fact he didn't wake up tells us someone planned this."</p><p class="western">"He was drugged," the blue man said. It wasn't a question.</p><p class="western">"We'll know more after the autopsy, but we think so.  Of course, he could have just passed out cold from all the whiskey.  We're hoping that whoever did this didn't plan far in advance and we'll be able to track down where he or she bought the hammer locally."</p><p class="western">"That's still going to be difficult," Megamind shook his large head.  “I imagine any given hardware store must sell dozens every day.  So," he added. "Someone caves in a superhero’s face, in the middle of an entire convention of Defenders, and then walks out covered in blood and carrying the murder weapon, all while leaving no tracks.” There was a look of deep thought on the blue man’s face that Roxanne usually only saw when he was inventing something. It was a sign that his brilliant mind was now fully engaged.</p><p class="western">“You’ve got to admit, whoever did this had guts,” the younger detective conceded. Roxanne winced mentally a little at the word, and silently thank whatever deities were listing that it was Vulcan’s brains and not his intestines on display. She felt her stomach roil at the thought, and swallowed hard.</p><p class="western">“No,” Megamind was saying slowly. “No, this isn’t a case of mere brazenness and dumb luck. Someone did this <em>knowing </em>they wouldn’t be caught.  There's something else going on here. Andersen,” his attention snapped to the older man. “I want samples of everything in here: textiles, blood, tissue… Get me some of the paper off the wall if you can manage it! I need it all processed and ready for pickup before the end of the day! Roxanne, Dearest, pack your things,” he added apologetically. “I know the conference doesn't officially end until Friday morning, but I’m afraid we have to cut our stay here short. I really need access to my lab.”</p><p class="western">“Gee,” Roxanne was pleased to hear that her voice sounded completely steady. “Can’t we spend just one more night in the murder hotel with all the judgmental super-people staring down their noses at you?” she cocked one hip and managed a dry grin that felt like it was two-thirds pretense. “It’s been so much <em>fun</em>.”</p><p class="western">“Jesus,” Tully’s laugh sounded a little strained. “She’s more jaded than half the cops I know.”</p><p class="western">“Not really, no,” Roxanne sobered at the reminder that their friend was new to this, too. It would be cruel to make him feel substandard. “I’m just a better actress,” she assured him. “That’s one thing being on live TV will do for you.”</p><p class="western">“I’ll tell you a secret: cop humor is always part bravado,” Andersen informed her. “But it still takes some real backbone to see something like this and not let it eat you. Hell of a girl,” He said again to Megamind. There was something almost like approval in his voice.</p><p class="western">“Indeed she is,” Megamind smiled at his fiancé. “And I take your point, Love. I promise, when this is over, you and I will escape for the most ridiculously romantic weekend you can imagine.” The hero’s levity was short-lived, his expression turning serious again as his eyes swept back over the room. “I don’t like this. I'm afraid you may be right, Tully,” he looked at the dark-haired man gravely. “There is definitely something very wrong here.  Andersen, don't forget my samples. And I'll need all the other information from forensics and the autopsy as soon as you have it, along with anything else you can get.”</p><p class="western">Andersen looked sharply at him.  "When you say Tully is right do you mean we have a new S.V. on our hands?"</p><p class="western">"I don't know," Megamind responded slowly.  "But I intend to find out."</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Council of Heroes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Roxanne felt the need for a shower when the couple returned to their room. It was stupid, irrational, but she could swear the reek of old blood and new death was clinging to her skin.</p><p class="western">“I understand, Sweetheart,” Megamind said gently. “Meet me in the conference room when you’re done. I’ll call BrightShield and ask to speak to all the other Defenders.”</p><p class="western">“You could shower with me,” Roxanne suggested, then winced inwardly. She’d meant to sound inviting, but her voice came out small and a little plaintive.</p><p class="western">Megamind’s green eyes soften. He stripped off his shirt and reached one hand toward her. “Come here, Love.”</p><p class="western">He led her to the bathroom and helped her undress, calling brainbots to take her clothes to the hotel laundry before taking off his own pants. In the suite’s large, glassed-in shower, he held her close under the steaming water while she shivered, soothing hands stroking her back. When the woman finally began to feel warm, her lover insisted on scrubbing every inch of her skin, keeping up a constant discussion of safe, banal things in his rich tenor voice. By the time Roxanne rinsed off, she had managed to push the crime scene to the back of her mind and was starting to feel like herself again.</p><p class="western">Back in their bedroom, Megamind called several of his flying cyborgs to help him dress quickly and was arrayed in one of his uniforms before his fiancé had even finished drying her hair.</p><p class="western">“I’m sorry, Love, but I have to go.” He leaned in and pressed his lips briefly to her own, then turned to grab his holster from where he’d hung it on the wardrobe and fasten it about his waist.</p><p class="western">Roxanne tied her robe more tightly around her waist—she still wasn't quite comfortable being undressed around the brainbots—and nodded. “I know you do. Thank you for staying with me, Darling. I’m alright now. I promise,” she hugged him from behind and pecked him on the cheek.</p><p class="western">“Come down to the conference room as soon as you feel up to it,” Megamind offered as the brainbots fastened on his spiked pauldrons.</p><p class="western">“I’ll be there shortly. Megamind,” she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Before you go, I need Andersen’s cell number.” At his look, she explained: “I’m going to have to call this into the news station. You know I am. It could cost me my job if Harold finds out I was here when it happened and let someone else get the scoop on us. But maybe I can turn that to our advantage, say the right things to play down the killer's 'triumph.’ If you think whoever did this might want people to know about it, I might be able to goad them into doing something stupid. But to do that, I need to know what the MCPD does and doesn't want to be public knowledge.”</p><p class="western">He cupped her face and kissed her. “You, my Dear, are absolutely brilliant.” The blue man leaned closer and purred: “it’s very, very sexy.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne’s smile felt almost normal. “Keep that up and neither of us will get anything done.” She pecked his cheek, then gently pushed him toward the door. “Go do what needs doing. I love you.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.” Swinging his cloak around his shoulders, Megamind strode swiftly from the room, two brainbots, probably messengers, bowging close behind him.</p>
<hr/><p class="western">The second and third floors of the original mansion had been build like a gallery; wide halls, banistered and colonnaded, ran all the way around the massive rectangular entry foyer. Doors along the solid wall led to what were now some of the most exclusive guest rooms. The far side of the gallery still seemed to be swarming with police, plainclothes officers, and people in disposable bodysuits. Tully nodded to her when he caught her eye. By the time the reporter neared the large conference room on the ground floor, she could already hear raised voices.</p><p class="western">“…Complete fiasco,” someone was saying, “and I have to say that I find the timing suspicious.”</p><p class="western">Mentally steeling herself, Roxanne let herself in. The Defenders were gathered in a loose circle, most sitting and some standing. Taking quick stock of the room, something about the gathering pulled at the reporter’s mind. What was it?</p><p class="western">Megamind was leaning against one wall, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the frowning visage of Brendan Hawke. Many other heroes were watching the pair with interest, several were still looking a little shell-shocked, and a few appeared to be slightly bored.</p><p class="western">“I must say that I agree,” the blue man stated clearly. There was some surprised muttering, but Megamind held up one hand. “Unpleasant though it is, I believe we have no choice but to entertain the possibility that this was done with the express purpose of undermining us.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Us?” </em>Brendan asked. “Don’t you mean <em>you</em>?”</p><p class="western">“Defender KnightHawke,” BrightShield said firmly. “We are not here to cast blame.”</p><p class="western">“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that, but I don’t think any of us can deny that it’s damned suspicious,” there were a few murmurs of agreement. “I’m not saying that Defender Megamind is a murder, but let’s look at the facts. This man turns away from two decades of supervillainy to become a hero— something that we all know has to have made some of his past associates angry, maybe even scared— and then, while we’re all gathered at a conference is his territory, one of us dies. If someone wants to discredit him, I can’t think of a better way to do it.”</p><p class="western">The problem with the room finally clicked in Roxanne’s mind. Vulcan’s sidekick, HeatWave, was nowhere to be seen. Was he too distraught? Or maybe the police were questioning him?</p><p class="western">Brendan’s wife turned a glare on him, shaking her head incredulously. “I cannot fucking believe you,” her teeth snapped on each word. “This is not the time to play politics, damn it!” Ignoring her husband’s objection, Juniper stood up and glowered around the room. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I <em>am</em> here to cast blame! One of us is<em> dead</em> and someone is responsible!”</p><p class="western">The room erupted in noise, voices climbing over one another in a clamor to be heard. Brendan’s expression, Roxanne noticed, grew thunderous as he barked at Juniper to “sit down and stop making a scene.” BrightShield rapped a gavel and shouted for order to no avail. Finally, Megamind leaped onto the table and, pressing his fingers to his mouth, let out an ear-splitting whistle. Dozens of faces— far too many of them, Roxanne noticed, bearing expressions of distrust or dislike— turned toward the blue hero.</p><p class="western">“With all due respect to our honored president,” the alien announced loudly. “Defender Sparrow is correct. Murder has been committed,” his voice rang through the gathering with commanding dignity. “We are heroes, first and foremost, and we have a responsibility to bring the guilty party to justice.”</p><p class="western">“<em>You</em> have a responsibility.” Juniper narrowed her eyes.  Megamind ignored her, leaping, cat graceful, back to the floor and settling himself in a nearby seat.  Roxanne moved over to join him</p><p class="western">“Defender Sparrow! This is your last warning!” BrightShield was saying, somehow managing to keep his tone calm while still making it boom through the space. Clearly, this wasn’t Juniper’s first outburst today.</p><p class="western">The woman was practically trembling in rage, but her voice was calm though venomous when she spoke. “We are in <em>his</em> territory. We are here under <em>his</em> protection. <em>He</em> was responsible for our security. This is <em>his</em> fault!”</p><p class="western">Noah jumped to his feet. “We can’t hold Defender Megamind accountable for an act he didn’t commit just because it took place in his jurisdiction! Would any of you blame any other superhero for a violent crime just because it happened to occur in their city?”</p><p class="western">“Sit down, <em>sidekick</em>,” sneered Dirk.</p><p class="western">“Then I will say it,” Vashantha "Speed Demon" Kapoor rose from her seat. “We cannot turn this into a witch hunt.  Vulcan’s death is a tragedy, but if we want to see justice done, we cannot let our hearts overrule our heads.”</p><p class="western">“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Juniper, her eyes narrowed. There was an undertone to the tension that Roxanne found… odd.</p><p class="western">“It means,” answered Vash simply, “that we must not let our emotions keep us from thinking clearly and logically. We are all very upset—”</p><p class="western">“Oh, please,” Dirk rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even like him.”</p><p class="western">“Captain Justice,” BrightShield warned wearily.</p><p class="western">“That is my point,” Vash gestured. “My personal feelings have nothing to do with this. One of our own has been killed, and regardless of what any of us thought of him, the <em>real</em> culprit has to be found and punished. Defender Megamind does not have a spotless past. He has made mistakes, but so I have I. So has everyone else in this room. We cannot—”</p><p class="western">“Being a supervillain for twenty years is not a God-damned <em>mistake</em>!” snapped Juniper. “It’s not like he got caught stealing a CD when he was a kid and then straightened up—”</p><p class="western">“Defender Sparrow!” BrightShield objected.</p><p class="western">“He stole and vandalized and battled Metro Man for years!”</p><p class="western">BrightShield was on his feet. “Defender! Control yourself!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne clenched her jaw so hard her teeth hurt. She was here to support her lover but knew she really didn’t have the right to speak in a meeting of Defenders— indeed, she was treating this as if she were covering a debate in the state senate— so she contented herself with imagining pulling out Juniper Hawke’s long tresses one hair at a time.</p><p class="western">“He kidnapped his <em>girlfriend</em>,” she spat the word with derision, “almost weekly for more than eight years!”</p><p class="western">“Excuse me?” Megamind’s green eyes were blazing under furious brows, his voice taking on the dangerous chill that meant he was going into what Roxanne thought of as “Criminal Mastermind Mode.”</p><p class="western">Even if Sparrow Hawke was blinded by rage to her peril, her husband didn’t seem to be. “That’s enough, June,” Brendan tugged his wife’s hand, trying to guide her back into her seat.</p><p class="western">She jerked her arm away. “Don’t try to deny it!” Juniper pointed a finger at Megamind. “Don’t you dare try to deny it!”</p><p class="western">“I do not deny it,” the blue hero's voice was crisply controlled. “But I do not like the way you said ‘girlfriend.’ You may say whatever you wish about me, Mrs. Hawke, but you will <em>not</em> insult Roxanne in my presence.”</p><p class="western">Dirk snorted. “Here comes the white knight on his noble steed.”</p><p class="western">“Dirk, that’s really not helpful,” Anna groused.</p><p class="western">“Oh, is blue your new color?” he smirked. Roxanne’s fantasy changed to kicking Dirk the Jerk in the balls.</p><p class="western">Anna cast a glare at the man while the League president said: “That’s enough, Justice.”</p><p class="western">“We don’t have any proof Defender Megamind has done anything wrong,” Noah sighed.</p><p class="western">“I’m not sure that’s true,” the other man said blandly. “Speaking logically,” he nodded toward Vash, “there is only one person in this room who has ever been accused of murder before. We’ve all seen the footage. Megamind killed his predecessor.”</p><p class="western">“Defender!” barked BrightShield. “You have been warned!”</p><p class="western">“That’s right!” Juniper’s voice was rising toward a shriek now. “If he’s murdered one hero, why not another?!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne’s self-control broke. “Megamind never murdered anyone!” she shouted. It was a perilous statement to make as its truth depended upon a person’s definition of murder. Technically, Megamind <em>had</em> ended at least one person Roxanne knew of, but that person had been a dangerous serial killer known as the Bakker Lake Slayer. While the reporter felt that this was, at the very least, a justifiable homicide under the state’s self-defense laws, which gave citizens the right to use violence in the protection of their own lives or the lives of others, she was keenly aware that others might disagree.</p><p class="western">“And I suppose you think Metro Man asked for it?!” Dirk demanded at the same time Juniper snapped:</p><p class="western">“Are we letting fuck buddies speak in Defenders’ Council now?”</p><p class="western">“COME THE FUCK AGAIN?!” snarled Megamind, springing from his seat. “<em>WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL MY FIANCÉ?!</em> ”</p><p class="western">“<em>DEFENDER SPARROW, SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET!</em>” the president roared, his face turning red. “YOU TOO, DEFENDER JUSTICE! NOW!” He took a deep breath, it's sound loud in the sudden, ringing silence. “Secretary Childers, make a note that Defenders Juniper Hawke and Dirk Olsen are hereby under disciplinary action for exhibiting behavior unfitting of a member of this League,” he growled. “Defender Megamind, I officially apologize to you and your partner on behalf of the League for this incident. Now, the chair recognizes Miss Roxanne Ritchi’s right to speak in this council. Go ahead, Miss Ritchi.”</p><p class="western">Crap. Roxanne had assumed that the Defenders’ League, like the Mayor of Metro City, the Governor of Michigan, and other individuals in power, had been aware of the truth behind Wayne Scott’s apparent demise. She was going to have to word this very, very carefully. “I know what you all saw on film,” she said. “And I know what it looked like, but I was there in person. I was there for the events that followed. Megamind is not guilty of Metro Man’s murder.”</p><p class="western">A hero with sun-bleached hair, observant green-gray eyes, and water-based powers that had earned him the codename Tsunami raised his hand. “Am I the only one who’s confused? I thought we’d all seen Megamind shooting Metro Man with a literal death ray?”</p><p class="western">Roxanne hesitated for a moment. She had to speak— prolonged silence looked guilty— but she wasn’t sure how much more she could safely say. Thankfully, BrightShield came to her rescue.</p><p class="western">“Before we go any further,” he stated grimly. “I am invoking the Second Section of Article One in the Statutes. I need hardly remind you all that this refers to the Oath of Secrecy we all took when we became Defenders. As you know, this oath includes our protection of others’ identities, secrets, and strongholds as well as our own. Nothing I am about to say is to leave this room. Defender Megamind, do you have a way to secure the area?”</p><p class="western">With a nod, the blue hero ordered several brainbots with recent upgrades to station themselves around the room. At his command, the little cyborgs activated his newest invention. There was a high-pitched, electrical buzzing sound for a few seconds. Several of the Defenders jumped slightly when their ears popped as if there had been a sudden change in air pressure.</p><p class="western">“Sonic Shield,” Megamind explained. “No one outside this room will be able to hear us.”</p><p class="western">Noah looked like he was itching to ask about it, but restrained himself with difficulty.</p><p class="western">“As you all know,” BrightShield began. “Nearly three years ago, there were two major incidents in this city. The first was the apparent loss of the city’s Defender, Metro Man, and the second was the uprising and defeat of a new supervillain, Titan, by Megamind. Perhaps I should have called it three incidents because Megamind took up the mantle of Defender. It is not every day that we see a villain turn hero, and the efforts of Metro City’s new Defender were certainly nothing short of heroic,” he looked pointedly at first Dirk then at Juniper. “What we need to discuss, however, is the first incident, that involving Wayne Scott, formerly codenamed Metro Man. Footage from Mr. Scott’s final battle with Megamind appeared to show the former being killed by the latter. That,” he said deliberately, “was a ruse. The beam of concentrated energy fired that day did not, in fact, end Metro Man’s life.”</p><p class="western">The very air seemed heavy with stunned silence for a moment. “What did then?” Brendan finally asked.</p><p class="western">“Nothing, to date,” answered BrightShield. “Mr. Scott is still alive.”</p><p class="western">There was an explosion of gasps and exclamations.</p><p class="western">“What?!” Anna nearly dropped the water glass she’d just lifted.</p><p class="western">“He’s <em>alive?!” </em>Dirk asked, “Why isn’t he here then?”</p><p class="western">“Wayne chose to retire,” Roxanne explained. “I think you all know how difficult that can be for a superhero to do. The ‘death ray’ was a convenient cover story.” No need to mention that Megamind hadn’t known that until the autumn of that year.</p><p class="western">“Retired where?!” Dirk leaped up in his eagerness.</p><p class="western">“Oh, no,” Megamind shook his head. “Roxanne and I have agreed not to reveal his new place of residence.”</p><p class="western">“But—”</p><p class="western">“I made a promise, Defender Olsen,” the blue hero insisted. “I keep my word.”</p><p class="western">“Huh,” Noah grinned. “So you’re not the black-hearted villain everyone always made you out to be. I knew it.”</p><p class="western">“Make no mistake, SonicStorm, I was evil. Undeniably evil. I’ve made some terrible mistakes and done some things I am heartily ashamed of. However, I can at least say this: I have never willingly taken an innocent life.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Willingly</em>,” said Juniper. “That sounds very… conditional.”</p><p class="western">A look of grief settled across the blue man’s features. “During my first fight with Titan, there was a tanker truck. Titan destroyed it, causing an explosion. Nine people were injured, five of them severely, and the driver was killed.” He shook his head slowly, gaze looking far away. “His name was Bart Womack. Age forty-three. He had a wife and two children. I blame myself. I should have realized just how unstable Titan was, just how dangerous. Usually, I ensured Metro Man and I battled in unpopulated areas, but I grew… impatient. It was inexcusable. The shame and sorrow of that driver’s death will haunt my conscience forever. I send monthly checks to Ms. Womack, but I know it’s not enough, not nearly enough. If I could take it back, I would.”</p><p class="western">An uneasy quiet followed that statement. Someone shuffled in their seat. Another cleared their throat. After a moment, Clarissa Childers delicately coughed.</p><p class="western">“Be that as it may, a charge of a serious crime has been made. If there is any doubt of Mr. Mind’s innocence,” she said, “then this council has a responsibility to address it. I would like to call attention to Article Three, Section Eight of the American Defenders’ League Statutes. If any Defender stands accused of illegal activity, that person has a period of three months, from the date of the charge is made, to prove their probity. Failure to do so will result in expulsion from the League as well as a formal legal indictment.”</p><p class="western"><em>Oh, you stuck-up bitch,</em> thought Roxanne. She could actually feel her blue eyes burning like coals.</p><p class="western">“But there’s no proof he killed anyone!” Noah protested.</p><p class="western">“We cannot call Defender Megamind a murderer only because he has a shaded past!” agreed Vashantha. “Yes, he stole and destroyed property, but that is not the same thing!”</p><p class="western">“It sounds as if some of you are ready to hang him for being a former villain,” added Tsunami. “Or, dare I say it, for being an alien.”</p><p class="western">“For God’s sake, don’t turn this into a fucking race issue,” Juniper rolled her eyes. “That’s not what this is. And don’t try to insinuate things!”</p><p class="western">“Whoa! Take a chill pill, Sparrow! No one’s insinuating anything,” Tsunami held up his hands.</p><p class="western">“Well, I can’t guess what else you would mean! Murderers haven’t been executed by hanging for a hundred years! I’ll have you know I’m half Algonquian!”</p><p class="western">“It’s a figure of speech,” Anna informed her in exasperated tones. “Calm down.”</p><p class="western">“And whether anyone likes it or not, it does smack of racism. Or specie-ism, technically,” said Noah.</p><p class="western">“That’s not the point,” Anna interjected. “The point is that people are innocent until proven guilty.”</p><p class="western">“Defender Sparrow,” BrightShield addressed Juniper. “Do you wish to resend your accusation, given what you’ve learned today?”</p><p class="western">Every gaze turned toward the dark-haired woman. “We have no proof he’s guilty,” she said at last. “But we also have no proof he’s not.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne wanted to slap the woman so badly she could almost feel her hand making contact. Clinching her fists, she struggled for self-control.</p><p class="western">“That’s just as well,” Megamind stated, shocking the room into stillness once again. “I may never have harmed Vulcan, but the fact remains that I am the Defender of Metrocity, and another hero has been killed in my territory. This is my responsibility, and I will not shrink from it.” He raised his bright green eyes to regard the room. “I will personally bring Mason Wyatt’s killer to justice. You have my word. All I ask is that all members of the League submit to any and all necessary investigation, and answer any questions I may pose honestly.”</p><p class="western">“Members of the League?” Tsunami asked. “You mean that you suspect one of us is the killer?”</p><p class="western">Megamind shrugged. “I have very tight, multi-level security measures in place around this resort and this part of the hotel. All of the footage will be reviewed, of course—”</p><p class="western">There was a general outcry at this.</p><p class="western">“Footage? You’ve been filming us?!” demanded Juniper.</p><p class="western">“Only in common spaces, not in your private rooms,” Megamind assured her. “Oh, really,” he added at her look. “It’s little different from the security cameras already in the building. As I was saying, only two groups of people could have had access to this area: the staff, and attendees of this conference. I don’t like having to say this, but we have to entertain the possibility that one of us is a murderer.”</p><p class="western">No one said anything for a very long moment.</p><p class="western">“I agree,” Juniper Hawke finally said. “And I think we all know who’s the most likely suspect.”</p><p class="western">“June!” her husband objected.</p><p class="western">“You heard him and Vulcan at lunch on Friday!” she pointed sharply at the blue alien. “He practically threatened the man!”</p><p class="western">“Vulcan was acting like an asshole!”</p><p class="western">“It doesn’t matter! A threat is a threat!” Sparrow turned back to BrightShield and spoke clearly, every word clipped. “I would like to register an official accusation with the Defenders’ League against Megamind, Defender of Metro City, whom I feel I have reason to believe murdered Vulcan.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne could see her lover’s hands tightening on the armrests of his chair.</p><p class="western">“That’s a very serious thing to do, Sparrow,” the League president reminded her. “I want you to think carefully before you commit to it.”</p><p class="western">“I have thought carefully, and since no one else is willing to listen, I don’t see that I have much of a choice.”</p><p class="western">Every face looked grim, and Roxanne, darting her eyes from one hero to the next, felt sickeningly certain that something was happening here she didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.</p><p class="western">Just how bad became apparent a moment later when BrightShield sighed. “An official accusation has been leveled. Does anyone second it?”</p><p class="western">There was a brief silence, and Roxanne was just starting to hope that maybe everything would be alright when Captain Justice spoke.</p><p class="western">“I do,” the man said.</p><p class="western">Megamind let out a gust of air, seeming almost to deflate. “I should have expected this,” he said. Roxanne hated the defeated acceptance in his voice.</p><p class="western">“No, you shouldn’t have!” she exploded. “This is ridiculous! A man is dead and rather than helping you find the real killer these <em>heroes</em>” she spat the word, “want to pin it on you instead just because you’re, what? Different and more convenient?! You’re supposed to be Defenders!” she glared first at Kirk then at Juniper. “If this is how you deal with crime, it’s no wonder Megamind has the best numbers in the League!”</p><p class="western">“Says the woman who’s never been a Defender a day in her life,” someone muttered to her left.</p><p class="western">Megamind’s gaze snapped up, green eyes blazing. “Roxanne has helped me in my official duties multiple times,” he growled. His tone was one that his lover had come to associate with the Master of All Villainy: coldly calm yet commanding enough to carry. She felt a momentary burst of savage pleasure that his temper would rise in her defense even when it wouldn’t budge in his own. “There are countless scandals and corrupt politicians she has uncovered and stopped in her own profession, sometimes at significant personal risk. Despite that, she still chooses to see the good in people. My fiancé may not wear a cape, but she is more a hero than some of the other people in this room.”</p><p class="western">BrightShield was patting the air in a calming gesture. “I understand, and I also want to make it clear that Roxanne Ritchi is officially recognized by the League as a sidekick,” he added pointedly. “Even so, an accusation has been made, and it has to be addressed. Ms. Childers, take notes: the U.S. Defenders League recognizes the allegations raised by Defenders Sparrow and Captain Justice against Defender Megamind. However,” he raised his voice to cut off Roxanne’s new protest. “This is officially an <em>allegation</em> and <em>not</em> an accusation. There is no evidence, and the League is not prepared to formally charge Defender Megamind with anything.”</p><p class="western">There was some murmuring, but whether of disagreement or approval, Roxanne couldn’t tell.</p><p class="western">“As Secretary Childers has already stated,” BrightShield continued, “According to League regulations under these circumstances the accused has ninety days in which to clear his name before any action is taken. Additionally, I have already pledged that members of this association will assist the local Defender in this case, and I expect that pledge to be honored.” The look he leveled at the heroes offered no room for debate. “If there is no further business to discuss related to this unfortunate incident, I call for this meeting of the United States Defenders’ League to be adjourned.”</p>
<hr/><p class="western">“Well, that could have gone worse,” Megamind stated, sitting on the bed in he and Roxanne’s room and running a hand over his bald head. “It could have gone a lot better, but, really, I more than half-expected a fight to break out.” He tried to smile, but it looked brittle.</p><p class="western">“Megamind, those people fucking accused you of murder! They’ve got practically got an ax hanging over your head!”</p><p class="western">“Sword,” he said distractedly.</p><p class="western">“What?”</p><p class="western">“Damocles had a sword hanging over his head, not an ax.”</p><p class="western">“That’s not the point! God! I could <em>kill</em> those assholes!”</p><p class="western">“Careful, Love. Words are dangerous right now,” her blue lover's smile, however, was more genuine. "You don't want people believing you might actually do something violent."</p><p class="western">“I came close a few times,” Roxanne ground the words between her teeth. “I wanted to <em>strangle</em> Juniper. And that bastard Dirk. And <em>Miss</em> Childers.”</p><p class="western">“My Roxanne. My ferocious warrior goddess.” Megamind reached a hand out to her. “I don’t think you’ll ever fully understand what it means to me to hear you defend me that way. But still, you should be cautious.”</p><p class="western">She sighed and moved to sit on the bed, lacing her fingers with his. “Yes, I know. And I don’t really mean it. But I really hate seeing them treat you that way.”</p><p class="western">Megamind lifted her hand and kissed it. “I know you do, and you’ll never know how much that means to me, Love.”</p><p class="western">She leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent and cooling her boiling anger.</p><p class="western">“So,” she asked after a moment. “We have three months. Where do we begin our investigation?”</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” he rubbed his cheek against her hair. “We have half that time, Love. I’m not going to let this cloud our wedding day.” Turning to catch her disbelieving gaze, he added: “I am completely convinced that if you, Minion, and myself are on the job, we can do anything.”</p><p class="western">“The original A-Team,” she smiled.</p><p class="western">“Since I’m bald, does that make me Mr. T?”</p><p class="western">“Mr. T wasn’t bald.”</p><p class="western">“He was <em>mostly</em> bald!” Megamind grinned. “And he had more hair on his face than his head,” he added, stroking the soul patch on his chin. “Come on! It’s close enough to count!”</p><p class="western">Despite everything, Roxanne laughed. “You are incorrigible!”</p><p class="western">“I pity the fool who calls me ‘incorrigible!’” he proclaimed.</p><p class="western">Roxanne snorted. “That was the worst impression I’ve ever heard!”</p><p class="western">“Don’t make me tickle you again!”</p><p class="western">“Alright, okay,” she managed between giggles. “That was the best Mr. T impersonation I’ve ever heard a blue spaceman do!”</p><p class="western">He shrugged, face still glowing with mirth. “I’ll take it.”</p><p class="western">“Hmmm,” she agreed, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Then she sighed. “Even for us, this is going to be a tight time frame. Who do we focus on first? Juniper, Dirk, Vash, or Anna?”</p><p class="western">“You smelled something fishy about those four, too, did you?”</p><p class="western">“Like the docks on market day,” she said. “And HeatWave, too. What’s his real name again?”</p><p class="western">“Leo Williamson.”</p><p class="western">“Right. Well, I would like to know why he wasn’t at the meeting.”</p><p class="western">“An excellent question."   He wrapped one arm around her.  "I understand that the person to find the body is always a suspect, often for good reason.  And, of course, a disturbingly high number of homicides are committed by someone close to the victim.  I certainly plan to find out what kept Mr. Williamson so busy this morning, but I believe we can rely on the MCPD to focus on him, at least in the beginning. What do we know about the others?”</p><p class="western">“Well,” Roxanne said slowly. “I’m not sure that I can say we know this for certain, but I’m almost sure Juniper had an affair with Vulcan.”</p><p class="western">“What makes you say— ah, the cherries! Of course! I had assumed it was the alcohol that was upsetting her and her husband, but given what you overheard yesterday, and the fact that <em>cherries</em> always seemed to get a reaction… Yes, it might very well have been some sort of in-oo-window. If nothing else, it’s a plausible working hypothesis. What else?”</p><p class="western">She made a sound of agreement. “Anna’s statement— ‘I made a mistake, and I’m not married’— makes me think that she had a fling with Vulcan, too.”</p><p class="western">“Then, of course, there is Miss Kapoor as well. Do you remember how uncomfortable she looked when Vulcan was speaking to her?”</p><p class="western">“I do, and I think she has to be viewed as a possible suspect, too, but… it’s not the same.”</p><p class="western">He lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “What do you mean, my Love?”</p><p class="western">“Call it a woman’s intuition or a reporter’s instinct, but I feel certain the relationships were different. Juniper had this sort of… embarrassed defiance, and Anna was both ashamed and annoyed, but Vashantha seemed more irritated and almost… resigned. Like Vulcan’s advances were something she’d just learned to deal with. I can’t be completely sure but, speaking from experience, Vash’s reactions reminded me a lot of the way I used to be around Hal—”</p><p class="western">The blue man’s expression darkened. “I still wish I had known about that sooner. I would have gladly put that creep in a hospital room.”</p><p class="western">“I know, Darling,” she kissed his cheek. “But look at it this way: at least it gives me insight into our current problem. If I had to guess, I’d say Vash never actually slept with Vulcan. Still, I could be wrong,” she admitted. “Either way, there was clearly tension between them, maybe something worse.”</p><p class="western">“Much though I dislike the idea of prying into ladies’ private lives, we’ll have to find out. Jealousy, blackmail, or even self-preservation could all be potential motives.”</p><p class="western">“It’s very possible.” Roxanne glanced at the holowatch on her wrist and sighed again. “I’d better get ready to meet Andro if I’m going to report this in time for the afternoon news.”</p><p class="western">He kissed the tip of her nose. “Do what you need to do, Sweetheart. I’m going to get the brainbots started packing, and then see if Andersen and Tully have any new developments.”</p><p class="western">“Just don’t let them chew on my shoes,” she said, standing up and heading for the wardrobe.</p><p class="western">“Oh, come on,” he teased. “The detectives aren’t <em>that</em> bad!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne laughed. “Goofball.”</p><p class="western">“Temptress. I love you.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Spinning Stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I completely and shamelessly stole the idea of Megamind and Roxanne loving Terry Pratchett from ImpatientSeamstress.  If you haven't read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373025">Tea with Topsy</a> yet, I highly recommend it!</p><p>Terry Pratchett fans will see that Megamind references the writer still being with us.  That is because this fiction takes place in 2012, three years before Pratchett's sad passing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“This is Roxanne Ritchi reporting live from inside the Johannessen Resort, where one of the heroes attending the 2012 American Defenders’ League Conference was found dead in his room this morning.” She was having to choose her words very carefully. Her boss, Harold, had called and demanded to know why she wasn’t already covering the story, but she was also trying to provoke the killer all while following dictates from people including Detective Tully to BrightShield who, naturally, didn’t want certain information shared. “Police have not yet released the identity of the deceased hero,” she continued. “But the League had confirmed that he was Vulcan, the Defender of Nashville, Tennessee.” Roxanne had had to fight hard for that one sentence, insisting to BrightShield that needed <em>something</em> exclusive if they were going to keep Harold from ordering her to dig deeper. “We’re told the unexpected death is under investigation, and that the Defender of Metro City is already on the case. I have the President of the American Defenders’ League here with me today.” She turned toward BrightShield as Andro, her cameraman and long-time friend, panned out. “Thank you for joining me during this difficult time.”</p><p class="western">“You’re welcome. I’m glad to be here.”</p><p class="western">“What can you tell us about this unfortunate incident, and how has it affected the League?”</p><p class="western">“We are all deeply saddened by the loss of Vulcan,” the retired hero said. “He served his community for fourteen years, beginning in 1998, but he had so much of his life still left ahead of him. Conference events planned for this afternoon have been canceled in favor of providing time to mourn and remember a man who, for many of us, was not only a hero but a friend.” Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne could see Andro adjusting his camera lens to focus closer on the older man.”</p><p class="western">“This must be very difficult for everyone involved,” Roxanne said, her tone and expression filled with empathy she couldn’t quite feel.</p><p class="western">“It has been a shock to all of us. Not only because of the loss, but because of the cowardly nature of the act.” Roxanne had specifically asked him to work that last part in. If this was a new would-be villain they were dealing with, being labeled a "coward" might just sting them enough to make them act.</p><p class="western">“Tell me, President BrightShield, as this tragedy has occurred within Metro City, what is the likelihood that some blame may be laid on our own Defender?” She already knew the answer, of course— Juniper and Dirk had made their feelings on the subject blatantly clear— but she had an ulterior motive. Two years into her relationship with Megamind, the reporter had long since become an expert at balancing the needs of her lover, law enforcement, and the station. Her aim now was give Harold the unique angle he wanted while simultaneously avoiding any sensitive case information and nudging the League itself to help cast her blue boyfriend in a positive light. BrightShield could hardly admit to the accusations being bandied by some of his members without also revealing the underlying conflicts and, possibly, the unheroic conduct that had indirectly fueled those allegations. Superheroes were people, and, like anyone else, they had their fair share of flaws and regrets. Many of them really did try to be the best they could be, but, as the last twenty-four hours had illustrated, even heroes were imperfect. Nonetheless, the League worked very hard to keep up the public image of shining, faultless Defenders selflessly protecting ordinary people. Roxanne was betting that BrightShield wouldn’t be willing to risk that image now.</p><p class="western">She was right. Something in the retired hero’s light blue-gray eyes told her that he understood what she was doing— understood and was oddly impressed— but he responded smoothly.</p><p class="western">“I won’t deny that some people may be quick to point fingers at any convenient target, but we, as Defenders, recognize the importance of truth and fairness. The League, as an organization, lays blame only on the person or person responsible, and we are ready to cooperate fully to see that party, whoever they may be, are caught.” There was something new in the man’s eyes now: a hint or a mild challenge. Was that look intimating what she thought it was? “Furthermore,” BrightShield was saying, “I would like to personally extend the gratitude of the League to Defender Megamind, who stepped up immediately and took charge of the situation before any request was made of him. He has made it clear that he intends to personally ensure justice is done, and in doing so has acted exactly as a hero should. We have complete faith in the Defender of Metro City, and in local law enforcement.”</p><p class="western">Yes, Roxanne realized, she had received the right message. Ignoring the carefully constructed list she had written, the reporter asked her next question. “President BrightShield, you used the phrase ‘person or person responsible.’ Are we to understand that this is being treated as a homicide investigation?”</p><p class="western">He looked at her seriously, and for a split second, she feared she had misread him. They had, after all, initially agreed that words like ‘homicide’ shouldn’t be used at all. After only a moment, however, the retired hero answered.</p><p class="western">“Yes, I am sorry to say that this is, indeed, a case of murder.”</p><hr/><p class="western">“I don’t understand it,” Roxanne said to Megamind that evening as they prepared for another television appearance, this time on the seven o’clock news.  Given the coverage needed, and the schedule Roxanne had been sent by the station, the pair had opted to spend one last night at the Jo before returning home.  Megamind wouldn't have time to begin analyzing the evidence until the morning, anyway. and as much as she wanted to return to the comfort of the Lair, Roxanne had to admit that being on-site made things easier. </p><p class="western">So did having access to the blue alien whenever she requested an interview.  It was one of the many benefits to dating him, although Megamind was careful to be seen on other stations often enough to avoid accusations of unfair favoritism. Knowing the constant interest and speculation that surrounded their relationship, Roxanne was equally cautious to keep their on-air interactions warmly professional. No need to give the gossip mills even more fuel.</p><p class="western">“Understand what, Sweetheart?” Megamind was asking as he buttoned a black waistcoat over a rich blue dress shirt. The former was tailored by Minion, of course, and boasted an embroidery pattern that, if one looked closely, was embroidered with overlapping M's.  “You’re staring again,” the hero added when his lover didn't respond, a hint of his familiar troublemaker’s grin playing about his lips.</p><p class="western">Roxanne felt heat creep across her face. She couldn’t help it; Megamind was, in her opinion, indecently sexy at any time, but she always found the sight of him in a suit positively sinful.</p><p class="western">“It’s your fault for looking like a bad girl’s wet dream,” she informed him.</p><p class="western">His wicked grin was on full display now. “Mmm,” he purred. “Keep that up, Miss Ritchi, and I shall have to take these slacks right back off.”</p><p class="western">“Um, yeah,” she cocked one arm on her hip, her attempt at knowing sass ruined by the hot desire she could feel beneath her skin. “Not really helping.”</p><p class="western">“Apologies, my Dear. What were you saying you didn’t understand?” He flipped up his collar and began securing a black silk tie matching his vest around his slim neck.</p><p class="western">“Why would BrightShield agree not to mention homicide, and then signal me to do just the opposite?”</p><p class="western">“Ah. You were told, I assume, that several national news stations had already jumped on the story?”</p><p class="western">She rolled her eyes. “Oh, trust me, Harold made sure I heard <em>all about</em> that.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed. Well, there was some question of exactly how they heard about it," he answered, securing a silver and blue enamel tie pin into place.  It was engraved with his logo in miniature. "I believe you’re aware that members of the League had been asked not to speak to the press— with the exception of your beautiful self, of course— in order to try to control coverage and minimize damage," he continued.  "It seems that someone among them disobeyed orders.”</p><p class="western">“Let me guess,” Roxanne rubbed her face. “Juniper.”</p><p class="western">“No, our other new favorite Defender, Dirk,” he slipped on his fitted black suit jacket.  The end result was an outfit too formal for a television interview, but that was just Megamind.  He liked presentation.</p><p class="western">“That asshole.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed. He still seems especially determined to pin the blame on me, even if only in the court of public opinion, and while he hasn’t actually accused me on air, there has definitely been a certain… spin to his words. We need to counteract that, and BrightShield knows it.  Besides, this was bound to come out soon, and there are other secrets he's likely keener on protecting.”</p><p class="western">"Other secrets?"</p><p class="western">"Such as some of the highly <em>unheroic</em> behavior going on under his command.  You were right about Juniper Hawke and Vulcan, by the way." </p><p class="western">"Mmm," she nodded her agreement.  "The Not-So-Love-Birds little tantrums during the council were very interesting."</p><p class="western">"Indeed.  The was she was so vehemently angry in his defense while her husband was so furious about it, yet was clearly unwilling to act too much on that emotion.  They may as well have announced it on loudspeaker.  I can't understand why everyone else didn't see it."</p><p class="western">"Most people just don't pay attention, Darling," she shrugged.</p><p class="western">"And it seems the only ones who <em>are</em> are the those don't wish to take notes."</p><p class="western">"What do you mean?"</p><p class="western">"Captain <em>Justice</em>," he put a twist of irony into the word, "is trying to blackmail me into giving him Wayne's DNA with his little press stunt, and he seems to know more about the extraction than I like.  He knows, for example, that I didn't get rid of it.  I should have.  Maybe it was idiotic of me not to."</p><p class="western">"No, Sweetie," She hugged him with one arm, cupping his face in her other hand. “The governor asked you to keep it in stasis as an emergency measure, and honestly, that's a good failsafe." </p><p class="western">"I'm still surprised Music Man actually agreed to that."</p><p class="western">"I think he trusts you more than you realize."</p><p class="western">"If only his copycat was more like him."</p><p class="western">"Dirk the Jerk is just living up to his name, Darling. He’s a xenophobic prick. No one who knows what sort of man you are could possibly think you had anything to do with this.”</p><p class="western">Megamind shook his bald head, bright green eyes studying her face. “No, Sweetheart, he’s not a xenophobe. What he is is clever<b>—</b> not nearly clever enough to match me, but clever nonetheless. I wouldn’t give him Metro Man’s DNA willingly, so he’s decided to somehow obtain it despite me, and now suddenly here is a perfect opportunity to get me out of the way.”</p><p class="western">“Do you think it’s possible he could be so obsessed with becoming his idol that he might have killed Vulcan just so he could frame you?”</p><p class="western">“I don’t know, Love, but,” his expression shifted to one of wry amusement. “If so, he has absolutely no talent for evil plotting and an incredibly poor style of execution. Anyone with half a brain would know bludgeoning someone to death isn’t my—what do they call it? M.O.?”</p><p class="western">"Yeah." Roxanne couldn’t help the way her stomach twisted at the reminder of the crime scene, and summoned a laugh to cover it. It sounded only a little nervous. “No future in supervillainy for him, then?” she asked.</p><p class="western">“I wouldn’t advise him to quit his day job,” the blue hero grinned. “There’s nothing at the scene that even hints at my involvement. Anyone who wanted to frame me should have used something more technologically advanced. I’ll have to answer questions, like everyone else, but Metro City’s finest aren’t treating me like a serious suspect.” He chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve been a serious suspect often enough to know.”</p><p class="western">“Still,” Roxanne sobered. “That brings our list of suspects up to, what? Five? That’s nearly a quarter of the Defenders here!”</p><p class="western">“And that’s not including what I found at the scene,” her lover said seriously.</p><p class="western">“What do you mean?”</p><p class="western">“Later, Beloved.” The alien checked the time on his holowatch. “We mustn't be late for the live broadcast.  It's unprofessional.”</p><hr/><p class="western">The pair’s plans for a continued conversation after the interview were derailed, however, when a familiar gray-haired figure approached them as Andro was packing up his camera. He looked tired and slightly rumpled.</p><p class="western">“Defender, I need to talk to you,” he said without preamble.</p><p class="western">“What can I do for you, Detective Andersen?”</p><p class="western">“I’m getting some grief over the meeting you had with the other heroes this morning. The brass wants to know what you mean by giving everyone a chance to get their stories straight before we could question them.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, really?” Megamind lifted an eyebrow. “That didn’t come from Police Chief Simmons. He knows me too well.”</p><p class="western">“You’re right,” one side of Andersen’s mouth twitched with distaste. “It came from Detective Sergeant Keto.”</p><p class="western">“Ah. He never has liked me.”</p><p class="western">“I don’t think he ever forgave you for the Fitzgerald case. Nobody likes to admit that a supervillain solved an arson and murder for them. Look,” the detective added with a sigh. “You know this is bullshit, and I know this is bullshit, but Keto is breathing fire down my neck and, even though Simmons is biting his head off, the fact is that some of the local Powers That Be agree with him. Now that the question is out there, it’s got to be dealt with. I’ve got to cover my ass, and so do you. I need an official statement about what was discussed in that meeting today.”</p><p class="western">“And BrightShield was unable to provide a satisfactory report? I would think the word of the President of the American Defenders’ League would be more… acceptable than mine.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, I’ve talked to him, and he’s signed a written statement, but he won’t detail part of what was said between…” he checked a pocket notebook. “Sparrow’s accusation that you were involved, and your account of the death of a Mr. Womack.”</p><p class="western">“My own statement will be no different, Andersen. Members of the League are sworn to secrecy concerning certain matters, such as the identities of other heroes.”</p><p class="western">Andersen sighed. “I was afraid you’d say something like that,” his expression became a smirk that was almost a grimace. “Okay, Blue, make my life more difficult. What <em>can</em> you give me?”</p><p class="western">“Let me make a call first,” the blue man offered, already pulling out his cell phone. “Simmons is aware of the… situation discussed, and will be able to verify that it has no bearing on the case.”</p><p class="western">“I appreciate it, Blue, but I’m still going to need your statement.”</p><p class="western">“Of course. Sweetheart,” Megamind turned to his fiancé. “This may take a little while. Would you like to go up to the room?”</p><p class="western">The idea was tempting, but Roxanne felt she should be at her lover’s side for support. “I don’t mind coming with you, Darling.” She eyed Andersen. “Besides, I’d really like to know who’s gotten Keto in such a fuss about this. He might not like Megamind, but he’s usually too focused on being upwardly-mobile not to toe whatever line Police Chief Simmons gives him, meaning that he thinks the back he’s scratching right now can get him ahead even faster. Who is it?”</p><p class="western">That startled the detective into an appreciative chuckle. “You know when I told you you should think about being a cop, Miss Ritchi? I take it back. They’d probably give you my job. Yeah, somebody’s pulling Keto’s strings right now, I can almost <em>taste</em> it, but damned if I know who it is.”</p><p class="western">"Do you think it's possible that person has reason to want to see Megamind blamed for this?" she looked between Andersen and her lover.</p><p class="western">"Keto wouldn't willingly obstruct an investigation," the latter mused, "but it's possible he might not realize the two are connected."</p><p class="western">"Shit," agreed Andersen.  "I hadn't thought about that.  I hate it, but that's an angle that at least has to be looked into.  It's too big a coincidence to ignore."  He sighed.  "I really didn't need another complication."</p><p class="western">“Not to worry.  That sounds like a job for my incredibly beautiful and intrepid reporter girlfriend,” Megamind grinned. “Care to see what you can dig up, Sweetheart?”</p><p class="western">Roxanne made a show of considering it. “I suppose I could do that. But only if you promise I can sit in when you question the suspects. Hey, I’ve got to get my exclusive somehow,” she added at Andersen’s expression.</p><p class="western">“It’s a deal,” Megamind nodded before the detective could object.</p><p class="western">“And it’s still going to cost you one hug and three kisses,” the woman informed her lover.</p><p class="western">“<em>Three</em> kisses?!” he gaped at her in mock affront. “Prices around here are growing steep! Excuse me for a moment,” he added to Andersen before swinging Roxanne into his arms and pressing three chaste but sound kisses onto her lips.</p><p class="western">“See? Was that so hard?” she asked, blue eyes dancing with mirth.</p><p class="western">“Something certainly is,” he purred back.</p><p class="western">Andersen coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Way too much information, Blue.”</p><p class="western">“Apologies.” He turned back to Roxanne, sliding his arms back around her waist, he leaned in for one more quick kiss. “Meet me in the room later? You look as if you could use a little relaxation,” he leaned his forehead against hers. “I prescribe a warm bubble bath and no less than two chapters of Reaper Man.” He’d made reading to her a regular part of their evenings, and they were currently working their way through one of her favorite humorous fantasy novels. Megamind’s impression of Death was superb.</p><p class="western">"You two had better not be reading Terry Pratchett without me!" Andro called over his shoulder.</p><p class="western">"Uh, do you <em>want</em> to take a bubble bath with us?" Megamind asked before Roxanne could stop him.</p><p class="western">"Is that a serious offer?" the cameraman grinned.  "Because I will totally take you up on it."</p><p class="western">"That was a stupid question, wasn't it?" the blue hero quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.</p><p class="western">"Yes!" Roxanne and her friend answered in unison..</p><p class="western">Megamind sighed dramatically amid their chortles.  “Sorry, Andro.  Only room for two.  Maybe I'll install a hot tub on the Lair's roof and we'll have a party after the honeymoon."</p><p class="western">"I'm holding you to that," Andro grinned.  "And I expect Terry Pratchett to be involved."</p><p class="western">"I doubt he'd accept the invitation," Megamind deadpanned, but there was humor in his green eyes.  "And I fully expect swimwear to be involved."</p><p class="western">"I'm not sure mine will accept the invitation!"</p><p class="western">Andersen looked hard at them both.  "You know, we <em>are</em> in the middle of a homicide investigation."</p><p class="western">"You said it yourself: one has to have a sense of humor to endure these things," the Defender reminded him. </p><p class="western">"Don't listen to him!" Andro teased.  "Big M just likes laughing at people's pain!  Look at him!  He's cruelly banned me from a Terry Pratchett wine party and he's <em>smiling</em> about it!  Eeeevil!" he grinned and wriggled the fingers of one hand.  The gesture wasn't quite effective, but his other hand was busy holding the camera.</p><p class="western">"Beloved," Megamind informed Roxanne.  "You're friend is strange."</p><p class="western">"Hey!" laughed Andro.</p><p class="western">Roxanne offered a wry smile.  "Well, he <em>does</em> hang out with us on purpose."</p><p class="western">"Like I said: strange," the blue man laughed.  "I'll have the brainbots bring up some wine and hors d’ourves later for our little date.”</p><p class="western">“Hmmm… Prosecco? And one of those artisan charcuterie boards?” she asked.</p><p class="western">“Anything you like, Sweetheart,” he ran long, blue fingers through her short hair and kissed her cheek. “Go see what you can find out about Keto. I’ll be up in two hours.”</p><p class="western">“Alright, but only if you promise you’ll <em>B.B.A.D.</em>” she gave him a secretive little smile.</p><p class="western">His answering grin was all dark teasing and wanton promise. “My Dear, nothing could stop me." </p><p class="western">There was another choking noise.  "Seriously, Blue," the detective objected. "I'm still standing <em>right here</em>."</p><p class="western">"Ah. Yes.  Sorry, Andersen.”</p><p class="western">The older man snorted.  "No, you aren't."</p><p class="western">"You're right," Megamind displayed his best villainous grin. "I'm not." </p><p class="western">Roxanne laughed. "I'd better get busy if I want to get anything meaningful done, Darling," she said, squeezing her lover's hand by way of a farewell.  "I love you."</p><p class="western">"I love you, too.  I'll see you later tonight."  Straightening his suit jacket, Megamind pulled himself back into Serious Defender Mode.  He dug out his cell phone and began dialing. “Let me call Simmons," Roxanne heard him offer as she waved goodbye to Andro and started away. "Then we’ll take care of that statement.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Wine, Women, and WRONG</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">They packed the last of their belongings the next morning, and Megamind hit each of the suitcases with a dehydration blast to make them more manageable. Minion had driven himself and Olivia back in the invisible car, and although he had offered to come back to pick the others up, Megamind had said it wouldn't be necessary.  Well prepared as always, the blue hero had dehydrated and packed one of the flying vehicles. Although, he’d admitted, when he’d done so it had been in the hopes of a romantic flight over the countryside. Still, Roxanne was glad he’d done it; it meant they hadn’t had to wait around the Jo—or more specifically around the other Defenders—a moment longer than necessary. The manager had been a little distressed by their early departure, but Megamind had assured him they still planned to keep—and pay for—their room for the entire week.</p><p class="western">“Much though we would love to remain in your excellent establishment,” he said. “But I hope to resolve this… unfortunate situation as quickly as possible. We will, however, likely need to come back during the investigation.”</p><p class="western">“Yes, Sir,” the other man looked uncomfortable. “About that, Would it be possible… ah… Could I have a brief word? In my office?”</p><p class="western">He led the pair into a well-appointed but slightly cluttered room and closed the door. At one side of a large wooden desk, its surface mostly hidden under stacks of paper, sat a woman around Roxanne’s age with light tan skin, a black ponytail, and a maid’s uniform.</p><p class="western">“This is Emilia,” the manager had explained. “She asked if she could talk to you. She says she knows something but can’t go to the police.”</p><p class="western">“Ah,” Megamind gave the woman a nod of understanding. “La Migra?” he asked.</p><p class="western">“Yes, El Cerebro,” she responded in a thick accent. “I came here legally, but my husband’s family? No. He, my husband, has a green card now. Not the others. If I talk to the police, maybe there will be trouble. Maybe my husband’s brother and his wife will have to go back and their boys will have to stay here. People say you are a good man, you understand, you do not turn someone in if they come to you for help. People say you can be trusted.”</p><p class="western">“And so I can, Señora Emilia. You have my word. What did you want to tell me?”</p><p class="western">“Before that man died, I heard something. People fighting.”</p><p class="western">“You were working the evening shift?”</p><p class="western">“Yes. On Saturday. I heard shouting. One man and one woman. They were very angry. I was cleaning a spill in one of the rooms, in that man’s room. A bottle of wine on the carpet. It was taking a long time, and the carpet cleaner was not getting the wine out. My family and I, we own this business, and we are proud of the good job we do. So I was scrubbing, and I do not think they knew I was there. I open the door a little to see, and there was a woman, the one with black hair here,” she indicated a spot just below her shoulders. “She was standing in her doorway and shouting. The man, the one who died, was leaning near to here. I think, El Cerebro, that he was very drunk.”</p><p class="western">Emelia leaned closer. “She said to him: ‘don’t touch me, if you touch me again, I will kill you.’ And now he is dead.” she shrugged. “Maybe she killed him, maybe not, but I had to tell someone. And you can be trusted.”</p><p class="western">“Thank you,” Megamind nodded again. “You’ve been very helpful.”</p><p class="western">He shook the manager’s hand and thanked him, saying he hoped they could return to stay again under better circumstances, and asking that the other man contact him if there were any problems “with the caterers or anything of that sort.”</p><p class="western">The phrase <em>with the other heroes</em> hung unspoken between them.</p><p class="western">“So,” Roxanne murmured to her blue boyfriend as they walked back through the lobby. “Vulcan argued with Anna the night before he died.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed. It certainly moves her up the suspect list,” he answered quietly.</p><p class="western">“Will we question her next, then?” BrightShield, determined to set an example, had volunteered to undergo examination by the pair first. Unsurprisingly, his information hadn’t been particularly useful, but still, Roxanne appreciated the support.</p><p class="western">“Perhaps,” Megamind responded. “But that will have to wait for tomorrow. I need to look over the copies of the police reports and examine the evidence first. I’d like to have all the information I can before I start interviewing witnesses.” He turned one of his more villainous grins on her. “It’s so much easier to set traps that way.”</p><hr/><p class="western">Roxanne heaved a small sigh of relief when Megamind carefully lowered the hoverbike onto its stand in the Lair. The familiar scent of home greeted her—like a cross between a repair shop and a furniture store— as did the sound of excited bowging. A flock of around thirty brainbots raced from all directions to greet them.</p><p class="western">“Hello, you! Oh, I know, I missed you, too!” Roxanne crooned, trying to pet as many glass domes as possible as the little constructs bumped against one another and vied for attention. One of them, number 680, which Roxanne had named Queenie for her imperious ways and tall pink spikes, settled onto her lap before she could even get off the hoverbike.</p><p class="western">Nearby, Megamind was gamboling like a loose-jointed clown in the middle of his own swarm. “That’s right! Daddy’s home! It’s so exciting! Oh, look at you! Aren’t you clever to bring Daddy the wrench? You want me to throw it? Yes?” He waved the tool above his large head. “Who wants the wrench! Who wants the—Hey!” one of the brainbots had snatched the prize out of his hand and streaked away, several others giving chase. “Ouch!” Megamind added as another nipped his still-outstretched hand. “No biting!” He turned toward Roxanne. “Why is it only <em>me</em> they want to munch on?!”</p><p class="western">She laughed. “Well, they’re cyborgs, and you said you got the organic material for them from shelter dogs who got put down.” The thought saddened her a little.</p><p class="western">“What else could I do? The poor things! I can only give them a half-life, but at least they have a home and affection now!”</p><p class="western">“That they do,” she kissed the tip of his nose. “But they’re still quintessentially <em>dogs</em>, and you’re always wearing leather,” she added with a chuckle. “You probably smell like a chew toy!”</p><p class="western">He rolled his eyes dramatically, but the was a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.</p><p class="western">“Daddy,” he informed the misbehaving construct, “is not for eating.”</p><p class="western">“Well, I mean,” Roxanne shrugged with a sly grin.</p><p class="western">“Wicked girl!”</p><p class="western">“Welcome home, Sir! Miss Ritchi!” Minion’s cheerful voice preceded him. “I’m glad you’re back! The medical examiner’s office just sent over copies of the autopsy report. Would you like brunch first?”</p><p class="western">“I’m afraid a quick sandwich while I work will have to do, Filet Minon. We don’t have much time.”</p><p class="western">“<em>While looking at autopsy information? </em>”</p><p class="western">“Unavoidable, I’m afraid.” Megamind arched an eyebrow at his friend. “Oh come on, Minion, it’s not as if I asked you to serve me a rare steak.”</p><p class="western">Minion shook himself in his bowl, shuddering a little, and turned to Roxanne. “Miss Ritchi, would you care to join me for brunch in the dining room like a civilized person?”</p><p class="western">The reporter hesitated. She felt she really should help Megamind—they were in this together, after all—but the mere thought of eating, or even watching <em>him</em> eat, while she looked at photos of Vulcan’s corpse was enough to make her feel slightly ill.</p><p class="western">Megamind’s eyes soften a little. “You should go with Minion, Love. No need to put yourself through seeing it all again. I’ll let you know what I learn.”</p><p class="western">“Promise?”</p><p class="western">“Promise.”</p><p class="western">Before eating, Roxanne went upstairs to refresh herself after the windy hoverbike ride—there was no sense in looking sloppy— and had just settled at the table when Minion brought in two plates and took his place in his reinforced chair. He’s once avoided eating in front of Roxanne, seeming to feel it was ungainly and a little odd, but they had long since grown used to one another.</p><p class="western">“How has Olivia been?” the woman asked as she tore off a piece of one of Minion’s homemade croissants. The pastries were, frankly, addictive.</p><p class="western">“She seems to be fine, Ma’am. I’ve kept as much of what happened away from her as possible, though keeping her away from the news has been a challenge.”</p><p class="western">That was probably true. The little girl had become nearly obsessed with watching her adopted mother’s segments on television, seeming to think Roxanne was only one step away from a movie star.</p><p class="western">Minion scooped up a piece of egg on his fork, swam to the top of his bowl, and, lifting the small hatch with the other mechanical hand, dropped the morsel into his mouth.</p><p class="western">“Have there been any promising developments in the case?” he asked after chewing. “Any suspects?”</p><p class="western">“Ugh. Too many. That’s part of the problem.”</p><p class="western">The aquatic sidekick bobbed up and down in his version of a nod. “Miss Wong, that is Black Cat,” he corrected himself; according to the mysterious etiquette of superheroes, sidekicks were supposed to refer to Defenders by their code names. “Speed Demon, Sparrow Hawke, and, of course, her husband, KnightHawke. Who else?”</p><p class="western">“You suspect KnightHawke, too, huh?”</p><p class="western">“Humans tend to be very jealous of their mates.”</p><p class="western">“I suppose it’s very different for your species, isn’t it?”</p><p class="western">He shrugged massive, fur-clad shoulders. “I think so? It’s hard to know.”</p><p class="western">“I… yes.” Roxanne felt her face soften. Megamind was humanoid, but Minion wasn’t. It had never occurred to her before that Minion might be even lonelier than Megamind had been. “It must be hard. Being here. I’m sorry.”</p><p class="western">“Nothing to apologize for, Miss Ritchi. Instincts are very… ah… different for me? But this is probably not the best table conversation.”</p><p class="western">“You’re right. Sorry again. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”</p><p class="western">“Not at all.” He dropped a bit of croissant between his jaws.</p><p class="western">“How are the wedding clothes coming along?”</p><p class="western">“Very well—Oh, that reminds me! The silk flower shop called—”</p><p class="western">“The flowers!” Roxanne groaned. While the arrangements and decorations would be real blossoms, the bouquets and corsages were being made from artificial plants so that they could be kept as mementos. “I was supposed to pick them up this morning!”</p><p class="western">“Not to worry, Miss Ritchi! Andro happened to be here for his final fitting, and he said he’d get them, but, um...”</p><p class="western">“What is it? Come on, Minion, you can tell me.”</p><p class="western">“Well, Miss, he called back and said that they were, frankly, hideous. He texted pictures and he’s right! They’re not at all like what you designed! The shop seems to think they were ‘helping’ by making them more ornate, but...”</p><p class="western">“Oh, no. How bad is it?”</p><p class="western">He looked at her mournfully. “They arranged all the flowers in perfect circles. The shop owner said it was <em>the thing</em> this year. But with the white daisies, peace roses, the blue and purple irises, and the bluebells… Well, the bouquets look like giant eyes.”</p><p class="western">“I don’t care if it’s popular! I am not carrying a cyclops eyeball down the aisle!” Roxanne laughed. It was better than crying. Because, damn it, she was absolutely <em>not</em> the sort of girly girl who cried about wedding flowers!</p><p class="western">Minion grinned at her. “Oh, not to worry, Miss Ritchi! Andro took them home, and he’s invited us all to a Save the Flowers Party at his apartment this weekend. He says he’s calling in reinforcements.”</p><p class="western">“That sounds like Andro, and it’s really sweet of him, but I hate that he’s going through all that trouble. He could have just told the shop to fix it.”</p><p class="western">“I said the same thing, but he told me, and I quote: ‘After seeing the monstrous horrors they’ve unleashed upon the world, I wouldn’t trust them with the flowers for blind man’s wedding in a cave.’”</p><p class="western">She chortled again. “Yep. Definitely Andro.”</p><p class="western">She finished her meal and left her plate in the sink before heading down to the workroom in search of her lover.</p><p class="western">“I’m coming in,” she called before entering. She didn’t want to see anything gory right after eating.</p><p class="western">Megamind was at one of the consoles, but the giant monitors, thankfully, displayed only white pages containing series of numbers and odd graphs.</p><p class="western">“What’s that?” she asked, kissing the top of his bald head.</p><p class="western">“Toxicology report.”</p><p class="western">“Let me guess: alcohol and sleeping pills?”</p><p class="western">“Very close. High levels of rutaecarpine, melatonin, and L-theanine, among other things.”</p><p class="western">“And those are?”</p><p class="western">“All sleep aids.”</p><p class="western">“Geez! Someone really wanted to knock him out!”</p><p class="western">“Exactly. But that’s not all. There were also traces of arsenic in his digestive system.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Arsenic?</em> ”</p><p class="western">“Yes. It doesn’t appear to have been a lethal dose, but it was certainly more than the trace amounts one would expect to find in someone who, for example, ate a lot of shellfish. And that isn’t all,” he turned serious green eyes on her. “The medical examiner reported that the toxin seems to have been in Vulcan’s system for about twenty-four hours.”</p><p class="western">“So someone tried to kill him before.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed. It seems our murderer wasn’t aware that arsenic requires either multiple doses over a period of time or a relatively large dose to be lethal.”</p><p class="western">Despite the shocking news, she still felt a teasing quirk on her mouth. “Should I be worried that you know that much about poisons?”</p><p class="western">“Not at all. It’s a fairly well-known fact among anyone who works with chemicals and similar substances.”</p><p class="western">“So the same person who somehow got out of a bloody scene without leaving footprints didn’t know a common fact about poisons. It’s like on one side they’re some sort of Moriarty, and on the other, they’re just blundering along.” She thought for a moment. “There must be lots of things more deadly than arsenic, then, but I know it’s not exactly easy to get a hold of. So why not go for a different one?”</p><p class="western">“It’s possible it was a matter of what was available,” he turned back to the screen. “But I think not. Arsenic has a bitter almond flavor, so it can be harder to detect in some foods by taste alone, and it is at least partially soluble in liquids.”</p><p class="western">“The wine!”</p><p class="western">“Exactly. Wines that undergo a malolactic fermentation process have nutty undertones, and while that’s more common in white wines, it is a feature of some reds as well.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind, what if Vulcan wasn’t just drunk? What if he was reacting to poison?”</p><p class="western">“That’s my theory.”</p><p class="western">“But if he was going to Black Cat’s room for help, why yell at him about touching her?”</p><p class="western">“Unless Miss Emilia was wrong and Anna <em>did</em> know someone was around.”</p><p class="western">“Which would only make sense if Black Cat poisoned him.”</p><p class="western">He glanced at her again and nodded. “I believe Miss Wong has just moved to the top of our suspect list.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Misdeeds and Moonlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Special thanks to Ask-Megamind-Blue-Defender on Tumblr for the use of the poem featured in this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“Thank you for meeting with us, Defender Wong,” Megamind gestured to a chair in one of the lounges in the Johannessen Resort.</p><p class="western">The room was often left open to guests during the day, but sometimes rented out for smaller events. In fact, Roxanne had considered it as a location for a wedding shower before Andro and Minion had enthusiastically taken over management of those preparations—something for which the reporter was eternally grateful—and she'd once attended a private society tea there with Lady Smith back when she had still been pretending to date Wayne. Now it was functioning as Megamind’s interrogation room, an arrangement he’d requested both to put subjects more at ease and to save the other Defenders from the press milling outside.</p><p class="western">Truthfully, he and Roxanne wanted to keep them from talking to the reporters as much as they wanted to avoid any unnecessary hassle. Dirk’s little stunt had caused enough of a stir already, and they had no illusions that some of the other heroes would have nothing positive to say about their local colleague. Naturally, however, they hadn’t shared that particular concern. Thanks to the seeds of doubt and distrust Captain “Dirk the Jerk” Justice had tried to sow, it was more important than ever for them to be seen as proactive, cooperative, and fully unified with the League.</p><p class="western">The resort’s manager had offered them the use of the sitting room for free, but Megamind, predictably, had insisted on paying for it. After some good-natured arguing, they had finally reached a compromise: the manager would accept Megamind’s payment only if he accepted a discounted rate.</p><p class="western">“It's no problem. A appreciate you getting my statement out of the way early,” Anna “Black Cat” Wong answered as she took her seat. “I’d like to do what I can, but I’d also like to get this over with as quickly as possible. My sidekick is a good man in a fight, but he’s not ready to hold down the fort without help, and I don’t think Blizzard can spare more than a week.”</p><p class="western">Blizzard, Roxanne had learned from her research, was a semi-retired hero who mentored younger ones, and occasionally stepped in to cover for Defenders in need of a rest. She’d often wondered why Wayne, back when he was Metro Man, hadn’t asked him to watch over Metro City for a few days so that he could have a break. It might have saved him from burning out, but then, if that hadn’t happened, her blue lover wouldn’t be where he was today.</p><p class="western">“I get it,” Megamind was assuring their subject. “I’ll try to make this as brief as I can.” He gestured at surrounding brainbots, and they produced a sonic shield. “None of the press outside, no one lurking in the hall, will be able to overhear what you say,” Megamind assured her. “Nothing that does not relate directly to the case or its evidence will leave this room. Do you understand? Good. Then I’ll get straight to the point. The night before Vulcan was killed, he came to your room.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne was watching Anna closely for signs of alarm—she and Megamind had agreed that they would need her keen observation during these interviews—and she wasn’t disappointed.</p><p class="western">“I thought you said those robot things were only keeping an eye on common areas!” she protested.</p><p class="western">“They were. I have other sources.” Megamind leaned closer. “Anna, this is very important: I need you to remember everything, every detail, about that encounter.”</p><p class="western">He was still treating her like a comrade, making her feel like she was part of their efforts to solve the crime, in the hope of keeping her off her guard. Roxanne had discussed the technique with her lover the night before, when they decided that members of the League would be more likely to honestly answer questions from another Defender than from a known member of the press.  Feeding reporters edited, PR friendly versions of events was second nature to most heroes.</p><p class="western">Anna frowned slightly, dark, almond-shaped eyes thoughtful. “I heard a knock on my door, and I answered it. Vulcan was there, leaning in the doorway.”</p><p class="western">“Was he leaning to the side, like he was waiting, or leaning forward, like he was tired?”</p><p class="western">“Leaning forward. But he wasn’t tired. He was drunk.”</p><p class="western">“How did you know?”</p><p class="western">“I just did.”</p><p class="western">“I’m sorry, but I need more than that. I need to establish exactly what happened the night before he died.”</p><p class="western">Anna frowned again. “It was in his eyes. They were glassy and a little unfocused. And he was sweating. Not much, just a little, but his forehead was shiny.”</p><p class="western">“Did he look pale? Was his face red?”</p><p class="western">“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”</p><p class="western">“Very well. What happened next?”</p><p class="western">“He started being creepy, and—”</p><p class="western">“Creepy in what way?”</p><p class="western">“Vulcan was a womanizer. He started hitting on me.”</p><p class="western">“Exactly what did he say, Defender Wong?”</p><p class="western">“He said: ‘I need you.’”</p><p class="western">“Only that?”</p><p class="western">“He looked like he was going to say more, but I told him to go away. I’m a Defender, not one of his punani girls.”</p><p class="western">“I see. And did he say anything else?”</p><p class="western">“He said: ‘no, I need you,’ and kept insisting. He kept saying telling me to let him in.”</p><p class="western">“Was he loud?”</p><p class="western">“We both were. I was angry. I’m not going to apologize for that. You would have been, too, if it had been your girlfriend standing in my place.”</p><p class="western">“Of course, no one should have to endure being harassed,” Megamind nodded sympathetically. “So he wouldn’t leave you alone. What did you do about it next?”</p><p class="western">“I closed the door in his face. He kept knocking for a while, but I put headphones on, and, at some point, he must have given up.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne, knowing which question was coming next, trained her attention fully on Anna.</p><p class="western">“And the bottle of red wine?” Megamind asked almost casually.</p><p class="western">“He didn’t have one,” Black Cat responded without hesitation.  "He was leaning both hands on the doorway."</p><p class="western">Megamind asked a few more questions, probing ones mixed in with standard inquiries about when she’d last seen Vulcan and whether she had noticed anything unusual, then rose the see Anna Wong to the door.</p><p class="western">“I’m curious,” Black Cat asked Roxanne as she stood. “If none of this is being reported, why are you here?”</p><p class="western">Megamind didn’t miss a beat. “I’m a gentleman, Defender Wong. I’m not going to ask a lady to meet me alone behind closed doors.”</p><p class="western">When Anna left, Megamind didn’t signal the brainbots to take down the sonic shield, turning instead to face his lover with a deep sigh.</p><p class="western">“So much for that theory,” the reporter said.</p><p class="western">Megamind nodded in unhappy agreement. “Either she had nothing to do with Vulcan’s death, or she missed her true calling as an actress.” He began pacing; it was a habit when he was both pensive and agitated. “She didn’t hesitate a single moment when I asked about the wine.”</p><p class="western">“I didn’t see even a flicker of surprise or worry, either. Was Vulcan really just drunk, then?”</p><p class="western">“I doubt it. It’s impossible to be completely certain without a sample of the wine to analyze, but I still feel that’s the most likely way for the poison to be introduced. It’s relatively easy to stick a long syringe through a cork, so he wouldn’t have had any reason to suspect anything.”</p><p class="western">“Do I even want to know how you know that?”</p><p class="western">“One of the Peretti family’s assassins was fond of doing that back when they were a power in Metrocity. That’s why I started keeping my own wine cellar.”</p><p class="western">“Do you think the Peretti’s have something to do with this? Could they be trying to discredit you so they can take back over?”</p><p class="western">“No. Even if I weren’t the Defender I’d still be the Mastermind, so discrediting me would do them no good. Besides,” one side of his mouth quirked bitterly. “Mikey Salo didn’t care who else died along with his target, and some innocent people died. I found that unacceptable.”</p><p class="western">“Oh. He went the same way as the Bakker Lake Slayer, then,” Roxanne stated more than asked.</p><p class="western">“I don’t know how you can learn these things about me and remain so calm, Beloved.”</p><p class="western">“Maybe it should bother me more, but I know you,” she shrugged. “You’ve only ever done what you had to do, and only when there was no other way you could keep ordinary people from getting hurt."</p><p class="western">"Yes, but most other people wouldn't <em>see</em> that."</p><p class="western">"Most other people are blind.  You hate violence, I know you do, but you don’t let that stop you from doing what has to be done. So if you say this guy earned it, I believe you.”</p><p class="western">He smiled at her, bright green eyes growing soft. “I love you, Roxanne Ritchi, with every part of my being. I don’t know what miracle brought you into my life, but I will continue thanking every listening god for it for the rest of my days.”</p><p class="western">She leaned over toward him, gently cupping his cheek, and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “I love you, too,” she smiled. “So,” she added, pulling her attention back to the matter at hand, “is the ease of poisoning wine bottles the only reason you suspect that’s how Vulcan got the arsenic into his system?”</p><p class="western">“Oh, no, Sweetheart, you can trust your brilliant fiancé to form a sounder theory than <em>that</em>,” he chuckled. “No,” he said again, sobering. “Everything that Anna Wong described—glassy eyes, obvious dizziness—could be attributed to shock brought on by the same sort of inorganic arsenic found in Vulcan’s intestinal tissues. Even the mild sweating could have been caused by clammy skin, another symptom. The dose didn’t kill him, but frankly, it was a near thing. A little more would have done it.”</p><p class="western">“I thought you said last night there wasn’t enough in his system?”</p><p class="western">“I actually called Dr. Riley at the coroner’s office about that this morning while you were dressing. Some people are more susceptible to arsenic poisoning than others. There are two different ways in which a human body can deal with arsenic. It depends upon how quickly the enzymes in their bodies can work on it, and which enzymes are prevalent. Either they convert arsenate, inorganic arsenic compounds, to arsenite, or they produce a methyl group, essentially a form of carbon-trihydrogen, that bonds to the arsenic and expels it.”</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” Roxanne nodded. “So basically your saying Vulcan’s body didn’t handle arsenic well?”</p><p class="western">“Quite the opposite. It handled it better than our killer anticipated. By the time he died, his body had likely already rid itself of part of the dose.”</p><p class="western">“Got it. At least we’re not quite back to square one, then. If we can find out who gave him the wine, we’ll almost definitely find out who killed him.”</p><p class="western">“Or who had access to the wine in his room. Unless, of course, <em>two</em> people tried to kill him in the same week.”</p><p class="western">“Ugh. Don’t even joke.”</p><p class="western">“Dearest, I only wish I was. As many people present as had reason to hate him, it’s a possibility that, while unlikely, we have to at least consider.”</p><p class="western">“Of course we do,” Roxanne slumped back. “Because this case isn’t complicated enough already.”</p><p class="western">His mouth twisted in amused sympathy. “Indeed.  Let’s hope we only have one murdering Defender to worry about.”</p><p class="western">“So who’s next on our list? Wow, that bad, huh?” she added at his look.</p><p class="western">He nodded, an almost apologetic expression on his blue features. “I believe we’d best speak to KnightHawke and Sparrow.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, joy,” Roxanne rolled her eyes. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could see them together and be done with it?”</p><p class="western">“You already know the answer to that, Sweetheart.” He half-turned to brush a lock of short hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to stay for this if you don’t wish to, Love. I can handle it.”</p><p class="western">“I know you can,” she turned and smiled at him, placing her hand over his to press it against her cheek. “But I’m here. We’re in this together.”</p><p class="western">He smiled. “That’s my girl.”</p><p class="western">“And don’t you forget it,” she teased, then sighed.  "Besides, you need my sneaky reporter skills to look for tells while you focus on being Mr. Charming."</p><p class="western">"This is true," his eyes soften.  "And you are, after all, my partner."</p><p class="western">Despite everything, a smile brushed Roxanne's.  “Well, let’s get this over with.”</p><p class="western">“Who would you like to see first? The unfaithful wife or the cuckolded husband?”</p><p class="western">“Decisions, decisions,” she teased. “Seriously, though, as much as I don’t want to, I think we’d better talk to Sparrow first. She’s less likely to warn her husband that we were asking questions about her affair than the other way around.”</p><p class="western">“Sparrow it is, then. Do you need anything before I send for her?”</p><p class="western">“A gallon of whiskey, maybe?”</p><p class="western">“Really, Love!” he laughed. “It’s ten in the morning!”</p><p class="western">“It’s also Sparrow,” she quipped, a wry smile tugging up one corner of her mouth.</p><p class="western">“Touché. Tragically, I’m afraid you are going to have to make do with a mocha latte.”</p><p class="western">“Ugh. Fine. But you owe me a really long, romantic hoverbike ride.”</p><p class="western">He chuckled. “You know, you <em>do</em> have your own now. Alright, alright,” he added when she crossed her arms and glared in mock annoyance. “You shall have an extremely romantic flight. Absurdly romantic. The most romantic hoverbike ride you can imagine. I promise.”</p><p class="western">“And I’m going to need some really great sex.”</p><p class="western">“Do I provide any other kind?” he purred, lifting an eyebrow.</p><p class="western">Roxanne smirked. “Nope. But this,” she added, running a hand along his smooth head as her expression shifted to a slow, vixen grin, “needs to be really great even by <em>your</em> standards.”</p><p class="western">Megamind made a purring moan in his chest. “A tall order,” he rumbled, warm and deep and wicked. “But I think, my Dear Miss Ritchi, that I shall be able to… <em>fill it</em>.”</p>
<hr/><p class="western">Megamind’s promises, although made half in jest, were the only thing that kept Roxanne from storming out of the room more than once because questioning the Defenders of New York City was every bit as miserable a task as she’d suspected. Megamind approached the question of Juniper Hawke’s affair as gently as possible, but that didn’t stop her from wasting ten minutes insisting that it had never happened, and another five screaming about “invasion of privacy” and “slander.” Then she finally moved on to demanding what Megamind knew and who had told him.</p><p class="western">“It was Anna, wasn’t it?! That hypocritical bitch! It’s not like <em>she</em> never let Mason get it in!”</p><p class="western">Sparrow, apparently, expected this to elicit a shocked response, and her rage seemed to swell when it didn’t.</p><p class="western">“Black Cat Wong told me nothing whatsoever about your trysts with Vulcan,” Megamind informed her, his words still impressively steady.</p><p class="western">“Bullshit!”</p><p class="western">“I didn’t even ask her. She kept your confidence. But if you truly wish to know who told me, Defender Sparrow, I am happy to oblige," he leaned forward slightly, studying her face.  "It was you.”</p><p class="western">“You’re a liar! A fucking liar and a God damned murderer!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne moved to stand, mouth opening to offer a furious retort, but Megamind laid a gentle hand on her arm. She was seething, but she had, after all, agreed to let him take the lead here, and she trusted him to know what he was doing.</p><p class="western">Still, she wanted to throw Juniper out of the nearest window.</p><p class="western">“Do not call me that again, Defender Sparrow,” Megamind warned, voice low. “You are grieving, so I have been patient and more than reasonable, but if you accuse me of murder again you will not like the result.”</p><p class="western">“You’re a murderer and a fucking coward and I never told you a damned thing!”</p><p class="western">The blue man grinned like a shark scenting blood. “Ah, but you did."</p><p class="western">"That's not—"</p><p class="western">"You and your husband both.” Megamind’s voice had taken on a deceptively gentle, dangerous tone. Roxanne had to restrain a cold smirk. Juniper Hawke had just unleashed the Mastermind and she was <em>really</em> going to regret it.</p><p class="western">“Lying bastard!”</p><p class="western">“Your histrionic behavior,” he purred, green eyes hard as stone, that predator’s smile growing. “Your almost desperate need to point blame, the way you looked at Mason Wyatt with impatient disdain when your husband was around, but oh-so-differently when he was not… They were all my spies.”</p><p class="western">“You… You horrible fucking son of a—”</p><p class="western">“<em>Not to mention</em> KnightHawke’s constant efforts to calm you down, keep your words in check. Oh, he was simply <em>terrified</em> that you would say too much, reveal his own little problem. Which was it? Did he step out on you, too, or was he having trouble keeping you satisfied?”</p><p class="western">“THAT’S NONE OF YOUR DAMNED—”</p><p class="western">“So <em>defensive</em>. Poor Brendan. He wasn’t quite man enough for you in bed, hmmm?”</p><p class="western">“<em>SHUT UP!</em>”</p><p class="western">“But if you <em>really</em> want to know where you made a mistake, it was your reaction to the cherries on Friday afternoon.”</p><p class="western">That stopped Juniper in mid-tirade. Her eyes flew wide.</p><p class="western">“Oh, yes, Defender Sparrow. You seem to have forgotten that you are dealing not only with a super-genius, but with his brilliantly-insightful girlfriend. I notice things, notice them and make connections.” The blue hero leaned forward, cold gaze locked onto Juniper’s, mockery twisting his lips. “Tell me, what was it about <em>cherries?</em> A little romantic bedroom treat? <em>Or did he pop yours?</em> Ahhh… That look on your face,” he chuckled, low and wicked. “It was both.”</p><p class="western">“Shut! Up!” Juniper’s fists were clenched so hard they were trembling.</p><p class="western">“And you’re <em>ashamed</em> of it.” Megamind clicked his tongue. “Giving your maidenhead to one man while betrothed to another! How perfectly <em>evil! </em>I wonder how much your husband knew, or—”</p><p class="western">Juniper flew at Megamind with a shriek, hands outstretched, fingers curved like claws. With surprising calmness, Roxanne’s brain noted that it said something about the other woman’s mental state that she, a trained Defender, was attacking like <em>this</em> rather than with weapons or martial arts.</p><p class="western">A split second later, Megamind had Sparrow pinned to his narrow chest, his arms around her waist trapping her own to her side. She shrieked and struggled for a few moments, and then suddenly sagged, head dropping low. A ragged sound tore itself from her lips.</p><p class="western">And Roxanne’s heart twisted.</p><p class="western">She opened her mouth to tell her lover to stop, that this was enough, but he was already making soothing, sushing noises.</p><p class="western">"Shut up," the other woman sobbed.  "Just shut up.  You... you bastard."</p><p class="western">“I know,” he said gently. “I know. And I’m sorry."</p><p class="western">"No, you're not!"</p><p class="western">"Yes, I am.  But I had to do it.  I need the truth. But it’s alright now.  It's alright.  Cry all you need to. I don’t imagine you’ve had the opportunity.”</p><p class="western">For several minutes Sparrow did exactly that.</p><p class="western">“I loved him,” Juniper half-choked. “He was a bastard and I’m married, but, God help me, I loved him.”</p><p class="western">“The heart is complex. And sometimes we simply love who we love.”</p><p class="western">“Brendan hates me for it!”</p><p class="western">“Did he hurt you?” Megamind asked softly. “It’s alright to tell me. I told you, no one can hear us. If he’s hurting you, you can tell me. I’ll stop it.”</p><p class="western">“No, no, that’s the worst part! Brendan’s a good man! And I… and I… God!”</p><p class="western">“Hush, now. What’s done is done, and you can’t change it. You can only do your best to mend it as you go forward. Believe me, I know that better than most. It’s hard. I understand. You can say whatever you need to here. You can scream, you can weep, we won’t judge you. It’s safe. Alright?”</p><p class="western">“Why are you being nice to me?!”</p><p class="western">“Because you need someone to do that right now.”</p><p class="western">“But you were just… No! You were horrible!” she pushed away, and Megamind let her go.</p><p class="western">“I was, and I am truly sorry for it. But I need the truth. I can’t solve this case without it. And I needed you to understand that everything connected to this case will eventually come out because,” his voice, though still tender, became firm. “Rest assured, I <em>will</em> solve this case. I am going to find out who did this, and they are going to pay. You have my word on that.” His tone gentled again. “But I don’t want you to have to subject your private life to public scrutiny. You’ve been through enough. If you will just talk to me, here, now, everything you tell me will be kept secret unless it is vital evidence. Together we will bring Vulcan’s murderer to justice.”</p><p class="western">Juniper turned to face him again, red-rimmed eyes filled with vulnerability, shocked realization, and unshed tears.</p><p class="western">“You didn’t kill him.” Her words were quiet, almost a whisper.</p><p class="western">“No. I didn’t. And I’m going to find out who did.”</p><p class="western">“I was so sure you had.”</p><p class="western">“I can’t really blame you. My past is rather against me in that respect. My own fault, really. I spent twenty years building a reputation as the most wicked, terrifying man in this country, did my best to convince everyone that that’s who I truly was. I can hardly blame you for my success in that endeavor.”</p><p class="western">Juniper was starting to regain a little of her fire. “Because that’s who you <em>wanted</em> to be.”</p><p class="western">“No,” Megamind sighed. “No, it wasn’t. But I learned that people don’t often attack predators. And when people are running from you, they aren’t hurting you. They aren’t hurting anyone you choose to protect.”</p><p class="western">“How do I know I can trust you?”</p><p class="western">“Honestly? You don’t, but I hope I can earn that trust.”</p><p class="western">She studied him for a long moment, then, with a nod, she sat down. “What do you need to know?”</p>
<hr/><p class="western">“I’ve very sorry you had to see that, Sweetheart,” Megamind turned painfully sincere eyes on Roxanne after he’d let Juniper Hawke out of the room.</p><p class="western">“I didn’t think you were actually going to hurt her.”</p><p class="western">“That and… The other. I’m sorry.”</p><p class="western">“What?” she gave him her patented Are-You-Serious look. “You think I’m going to get jealous and snappy just because you showed another woman a little compassion? Firstly,” she slid her arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his large head. “I know exactly who’s going to be in your bed tonight, and every other.”</p><p class="western">“<em>Our</em> bed, Sweetheart.”</p><p class="western">“Our bed,” she amended. “And, secondly, I know why you did it. Juniper is going to be a lot more helpful now that you let her see what sort of man you are.”</p><p class="western">“What sort of man I am,” he grimaced. “At the moment I feel more like a monster.”</p><p class="western">“You’re not.”</p><p class="western">“Her heart is wounded, raw, exposed, and I used that.”</p><p class="western">“Because you had to.”</p><p class="western">“I know, but I hate it.”</p><p class="western">“I can’t say it was my favorite thing, either, but it was necessary. I accept that. And, honestly, I don’t just mean for the case. She’s probably been needing to cry in someone’s arms for days, and I agree with you, I really doubt Brendan’s given her the chance.”</p><p class="western">“Yet she calls him a ‘good man.’”</p><p class="western">“He’s hurting too, Megamind. He trusted her and she hurt him. The situations may have been different, but I think we both know what that feels like.”</p><p class="western">He looked up sharply. “Who hurt you that way, Love?”</p><p class="western">Roxanne laughed softly, tenderness in her eyes. “My Dark Protector, my Black Knight. It was nothing important. I mean, it felt like it back then, but it doesn’t now. In my sophomore year of college, I was dating a guy, and I thought I was in love. I seriously thought that he was <em>the One</em>, you know? And I really expected he was going to ask me to marry him any day. I knew Vida, my friend since high school, had a crush on him, but I never expected… She lied about me, nothing huge at first, but just enough to make him doubt me. She ‘forgot’ to pass on messages he left for me while I was at class and work, slowly started insinuating herself between us. And over time she convinced him that I was cheating on him. The next thing I knew, he was yelling at me about what a terrible person I was and breaking up with me. A week later he was with her. The worst part was that I didn’t even see it coming. Because I trusted Vida completely. When I found out just how deep her deception had gone… It was like an ice pick in my heart. She’d been my best friend for years, we were roommates, but that day I moved out and never spoke to her again.”</p><p class="western">“Vida... Guther?” he asked tentatively.</p><p class="western">“Yeah,” one side of her mouth lifted in an ironic smile. “Lady Doppler. Small world, right?”</p><p class="western">“I’m so sorry you endured that, Love,” he put his arms about her. “But I am glad you cut ties with her. Otherwise, she might have dragged you down with her. And if it makes you feel any better, she’s a heartless backbiter toward everyone.”</p><p class="western">“You know, I’m really not sorry I went through it. If I hadn’t, I might be married to some mid-level manager with two kids and a dull, mediocre life. Instead,” she drew him closer and kissed the tip of his nose. “I have this wonderful, brave, kind, brilliant man in my life who always makes me smile and never lets me get bored.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, good heavens!” he said in mock horror. “How am I supposed to compete with that?”</p><p class="western">“Goofball!” she laughed and kissed him soundly. When she pulled back, she looked at him, honesty shining in her blue eyes. “I don’t regret anything in my past now because it all led me to you.”</p><p class="western">“Roxanne,” he breathed, and kissed her again, long and slow. “I love you,” he said when they parted. “I love you.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.” She leaned her forehead against his, and he closed his eyes with an expression somewhere between euphoria and pain. They remained like that for a long moment, until, with a deep breath, Megamind reluctantly unwound his arms from her middle.</p><p class="western">“I suppose we must prepare to deal with the husband now.”</p><p class="western">“Who might have been furious enough to kill,” she nodded. “Hopefully he’s more helpful,” She huffed.  "I'd really hoped the mention of red wine would get a reaction from Juniper."</p><p class="western">“Well, at least now we know Vulcan made a habit of hiring… ah… bed company.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne rolled her eyes. She hadn’t really been surprised when Juniper shared that little detail of Mason "Vulcan" Wyatt’s private life, but she wished the man had been a little more scrupulous. “Yeah. Meaning now we have a whole new pool of possible suspects. That’s literally the opposite of useful.”  </p><p class="western">“Not entirely, Love. I am the Criminal Mastermind, after all. If I tell the sex workers of this city to talk, they will. It might even make this easier.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne certainly hoped so, because, ten minutes later, when the subject of his wife’s infidelities was broached, KnightHawke snapped his mouth closed and refused to open it again.</p>
<hr/><p class="western">It was dark in Megamind’s bedroom when Roxanne awoke—the reporter’s own room had become more like her personal study as they always slept together in the blue hero’s large bed—and it took her a moment to realize what had pulled her out of sleep.</p><p class="western">“Sweetheart,” Megamind crooned, running one long hand down her arm. “Time to get up.”</p><p class="western">She looked up into green eyes shining in the blackness. “What time is it?” she yawned.</p><p class="western">Megamind flicked on a small bedside lamp for her, and she blinked at him, clearing her vision.</p><p class="western">He was smiling.</p><p class="western">“It’s time to fly.”</p><p class="western">The moon was full, bathing in a sea of stars, its beams casting a silver-blue light that soften the edges of the city and danced across the waters of Lake Michigan. At her lover’s insistence, Roxanne had donned a pair of knee-high boots, a coat, and a long-sleeved dress rather than pants. The thought made her grin knowingly at him; her fiancé liked it when the wind from the hoverbike tugged her skirt high to reveal her thighs.</p><p class="western">They were hovering high above the water now, Roxanne’s back settled against his chest, sipping mugs of Rumchata-spiked hot chocolate poured from a thermos Megamind had secured in one of the saddlebags. He’d admitted that wine would have been more romantic, but explained that he thought she’d appreciate a hot drink. He was right. It was spring, but the night air was cold.</p><p class="western">Megamind pressed the insignia on his cloak, and soft music Roxanne didn’t recognize began playing gently on the aircraft’s sound system. It seemed that her lover was never without a soundtrack.</p><p class="western">“I hope you didn’t wake poor Minion up to make this,” Roxanne teased as she took another sip.</p><p class="western">“Of course not, Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I made it, Oh, really, Love,” he added as she turned her head to give him an arch look. “I’m not <em>completely</em> helpless in the kitchen, you know!”</p><p class="western">“Uh-huh.  How many of Minion's pots did you burn?”</p><p class="western">“Burn! Oh, no! I’ve left the stove on!”</p><p class="western">She nearly choked. “What?!”</p><p class="western">“I’m joking! I’m joking!” he chortled.</p><p class="western">“You’re terrible!” she laughed.</p><p class="western">“The very worst,” he agreed gleefully. “Chocolate-covered strawberries, my Sweet?”</p><p class="western">“Now, I know you didn’t make <em>those</em>.”</p><p class="western">“No, I asked Minion to make them when we returned this afternoon.” He reached around to offer one to her mouth.</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” she relished the sweet, rich flavors, then nearly giggled as he turned her head enough to kiss a spot of chocolate from her mouth.</p><p class="western">“Are you warm enough?” he wrapped one end of his cloak around her with his free hand. Roxanne snuggled a little closer against him and took another drink.</p><p class="western">“This music is gorgeous. What is it?”</p><p class="western">“Gary Stadler, Fairy of the Woods. When I found it, it reminded me of that painting you have in your reading nook.”</p><p class="western">It was a watercolor depicting gossamer-clad pixies dancing with ethereal grace among twirling butterflies. She’d bought it nearly a decade before at a Renaissance festival.</p><p class="western">“I have to admit, when you say you’re going to be romantic, you don’t disappoint.”</p><p class="western">“Ah, but I’m only getting started, my Dear. Another strawberry?”</p><p class="western">“Yes, please.”</p><p class="western">He gently pressed the treat between her lips, deliberately running it along the bottom one first, and then guided her face around and leaned over her shoulder.</p><p class="western">“Such a messy eater,” he purred, kissing her mouth clean again.</p><p class="western">Roxanne stopped him when he started to pull back, lifting one hand from her mug to caress the back of his neck. “I think you missed a little.”</p><p class="western">“How terrible of me.” He leaned in and captured her mouth again.</p><p class="western">They were both a little breathless when they finally parted for air. “Now, Darling, as fantastic as this is, I don't feel I've quite delivered an 'absurdly romantic hoverbike flight' just yet. Thank goodness, I have another surprise for you.”</p><p class="western">She could hear the soft eagerness in his voice, and she glanced curiously over her shoulder at him.</p><p class="western">He smiled again. “I’m going to read to you.”</p><p class="western">“Ooh! More Pratchett?”</p><p class="western">“I’ve got something else in mind. It's really short, I'm afraid, but I hope you'll like it.”</p><p class="western">She felt him shift and turned her head to see him pull out a single folded paper.</p><p class="western">“Shall I describe your manifold beauties?” he began in his rich tenor.<br/>
“Words are but paltry messengers unfit<br/>
To tell of your eyes like sapphire seas,<br/>
Your sunlight smiles, your charming wit.<br/>
How can mortal language measure<br/>
An angel of divinity,<br/>
A goddess, a muse, a star, a treasure?<br/>
No, my heart must speak for me.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind,” Roxanne sighed. “That’s beautiful.  I've never heard it before. What is it called?”</p><p class="western">He cleared his throat. “It, ah, it’s called: To the Girl of My Dreams: Roxanne.”</p><p class="western">Her breath caught, her heart hitching for just a moment before it swelled with startled joy. “You wrote that. For me.”</p><p class="western">“Yes.”</p><p class="western">“Megamind,” she said again, tears pricking her eyes. “Megamind, my Megamind, that’s… Thank you. I love you. I love you so much.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.” She felt him move again, heard the rustle of paper, and then he leaned into her, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her left ear, his goatee tickling her neck.</p><p class="western">She turned again and reached for him. He complied with her unspoken request, moving to press his mouth against hers. She opened to him, craving the familiar flavor of his kisses, and he slid his tongue in to tangle with hers. The smooth sweetness of chocolate and creamy liqueur blended with his own unique taste, and she moaned. Roxanne made a little protesting noise when he pulled away, and he chuckled, warm and deep.</p><p class="western">He reached over her and gently took her mug from her, pouring out the last dregs before returning it to the saddlebag. Then he captured her lips again, one hand moving to rest delicately across her throat, his other arm winding about her waist. She reached back to run her hand along the back of his skull, pulling him closer.</p><p class="western">Passion grew between them, turning their kisses messy and desperate. Roxanne sucked at her lover’s bottom lip, and he gave a purring growl, pressing his lips harder against hers still. She was dizzy by the time they finally parted for air, and Megamind returned to her neck, nibbling and sucking.</p><p class="western">She gasped, moving her head to grant him better access. The hand on her throat glided lower, caressing over her collar bones and fumbling with the first button on her coat. He shifted forward a little, pressing against her to let her feel the hard bulge between his legs, and his fingers roved lower, finding their way down the front of her dress.</p><p class="western">His other hand began tugging up her skirt to wander slowly and teasingly along the smooth skin of her thigh.</p><p class="western">“Megamind,” she gasped. “Here?”</p><p class="western">He growled against her neck, and lifted his head a bare inch from her flesh. “I seem to recall,” he rumbled, nipping at her ear, “that I promised you <em>two</em> things.”</p><p class="western">Her next half-hearted protest was stolen by his right hand sliding up to rub hard against her sex through her panties.</p><p class="western">“Oh, my God,” she moaned, and his wicked chuckle vibrated against her skin.</p><p class="western">He moved his hand up to slip past the waistband of her underwear and back down to cup her fully. One finger pressed between her nether lips the stroke and tease expertly against her clitoris. He had always had a talent for this, and Roxanne leaned against him, head thrown back, hands clinging to his arms for support.</p><p class="western">He growled against her once more, mouth moving to nibble at a new spot on her neck she offered up as she leaned the back of her head against his shoulder. His fingers moved faster, circling and massaging around her clit before flicking the bundle of nerves, and she keened.</p><p class="western">“Yes! Yes, please! Megamind! Please! More!”</p><p class="western">He made another sound deep in his throat, biting down and sucking hard and the fingers of one hand rubbing mercilessly against her most sensitive spot while those of the other pinched and tugged her nipple, and Roxanne’s awareness shattered into a million glowing sparks of pleasure.</p><p class="western">She came back to herself cradled against Megamind’s narrow frame, her back resting against him, his alien strength fully supporting her weight.</p><p class="western">“That,” she said, “was absolutely amazing.”</p><p class="western">“Mmm,” he nuzzled her ear. “You seem to be under the impression that we’re done. Please believe me, my Darling Miss Ritchi, we’re really, really not.”</p><p class="western">She felt a gentle weight settle across first one shoulder then the other, heard the creak of leather as Megamind reached around her, and looked down to watch him snap two black leather straps into a belt before buckling the newly-formed harness around her waist.</p><p class="western">“How does that feel?” he asked. “Comfortable? Secure? Good.”</p><p class="western">He shifted behind her, and she assumed from the soft clinking sound that he was connecting his own harness.</p><p class="western">“These are new,” she said, gently tugging at one of the straps.</p><p class="western">“Indeed,” he finished what he was doing and reached around, unbuttoning her coat further to massage both of her breasts. “They’re attached to removable springs, so they will keep you safe while still allowing for plenty of… <em>movement.</em>” He rumbled the last word, and Roxanne felt things low in her body tighten.</p><p class="western">Megamind’s inventive intelligence was one of her greatest aphrodisiacs, and he knew it well.</p><p class="western">“Now,” he continued, his voice soft and deep, throbbing with lustful promise, his lips brushing over her ear. “Let’s try it out, shall we. Lean well forward for me, Sweetheart. That’s my good girl.” There was another soft clink behind her, one she recognized: his heavy belt being unbuckled.</p><p class="western">She’d never realized before that the noise had an almost Pavlovian effect on her, but the familiar sound now made her squirm in delighted anticipation.</p><p class="western">“Impatient, are we?” he crooned.</p><p class="western">“Mmm-hmmm,” she teased back, voice sultry.</p><p class="western">“My, my, we’ll just have to do something about that. Lean forward a little more. That’s right.” He tugged her skirt up behind her and stroked his hands over her round bottom with one hand.  His other must have done something with the insignia on his broach again because the music changed to a metal instrumental, the electric guitar starting off slow. “How much do you like these undergarments?” the blue hero asked.</p><p class="western">After more than a year as Megamind’s lover, she knew exactly what that question portended.</p><p class="western">“I hate them. They're positively awful. I wish some kind soul would come and rip them to shreds.”</p><p class="western">His laugh was dark and wicked.</p><p class="western">“Poor you.” He grasped one side of the panties in both hands. “I believe I can oblige.” With a sudden jerk and a tearing noise, he ripped one seam in half. Shifting slightly, he repeated the movement on the other side, then slid the wet underwear out from under her. The brush of cloth against her over-stimulated clit was enough to make her throb with pleasure.</p><p class="western">She felt him move again, heard the sound of a zipper, the slide of leather, and something warm and hard and rough pressed against her backside—the underside of his cock with its textured ridge.</p><p class="western">“Now, I need you to brace your feet on the back fins. Can you do that for me? Good,” he grasped her hips. “Push up for me.”</p><p class="western">She did, and he released her with one hand to guide himself to her opening. He leaned back a little, giving himself more room to line up his impressive member, and then helped her ease back and down onto his length. She groaned as he filled her. Even after months of sharing a thoroughly passionate and highly active sex life with him, the sensation of his massive blue dick stretching her so completely was always an incredible experience. Usually, it was fully retracted inside his body, only the tip peeking out from a pouch of skin above his balls, but when he extended it fully and it swelled to its full girth, he could have made porn stars jealous.</p><p class="western">“Lean forward just a little this time, Sweetheart. Can you reach the windshield? No? Then grasp the sides of the,” he rumbled another deep chuckle, “<em>cockpit</em> for me. We don’t want to accidentally hit any controls, now, do we? Mmm… Keep squirming like that and you’re going to make me do some very, very wicked things.”</p><p class="western">“That’s the plan,” she crooned.</p><p class="western">He laughed again, his full evil laugh this time, and pressed his chest against her back, reaching to grab the handlebars.</p><p class="western">“Ready?”</p><p class="western">“Please, Megamind! Stop teasing and just fuck me!”</p><p class="western">“I’ll take that as a yes,” he purred.</p><p class="western">And then he gunned the engine.</p><p class="western">The machine was still in hover mode, so it shuddered beneath them as it thundered, making his cock vibrate inside her.</p><p class="western">“Oh, God, yes!” she moaned.</p><p class="western">“Like that, do you?!” he growled and did it a second time, thrusting up into her as he did. Roxanne screamed.</p><p class="western">“Fuck!” Megamind roared his agreement. He did it again. “FUCK!”</p><p class="western">And then he started bucking into her, fast and hard, revving the engine every time he did. Roxanne ground shamelessly against him, pleading for more.</p><p class="western">“Yes! Yes! Megamind! Harder! Please, God, Harder!”</p><p class="western">He snarled and tilted his hips to hit just the right spot, pounding her with everything he had, the hoverbike roaring beneath them.</p><p class="western">She wailed his name, ecstasy already building inside her once more. This wasn’t merely a <em>wave</em>, this was lightning and tsunamis. This was a <em>hurricane</em>.</p><p class="western">“Please keep fucking!” she begged. “Please keep fucking!”</p><p class="western">His only response was to move faster still, ramming her mercilessly, twisting his hips beneath her to grind his textured ridges into all the right places while he kicked the engine up another notch.</p><p class="western">“Don’t stop! FUCK! Megamind! Don’t stop!”</p><p class="western">“That’s right, Sweetheart! Come for me!” he snarled against her ear. “COME FOR ME!”</p><p class="western">“MEGAMIND! MEGAMIND! YES! GOD! YES! YES!” she shrieked as an orgasm hit her with blinding force. White light stole her vision and she felt him bite down on her neck.</p><p class="western">Her lover didn’t stop or even slow. “One more! Come on! Give me one more!”</p><p class="western">Wailing incomprehensibly now, fingers scrabbling blindly at the edges of the cockpit, Roxanne rocked her hips to match his savage thrusts. He slammed into her again and again, hard enough to make the hoverbike bob madly in mid-air. He still kept time with his thrusts, revving the machine to make himself shudder hard inside of her, but his rhythm was becoming frantic.</p><p class="western">“Harder!” Roxanne pleaded. “HARDER!”</p><p class="western">He roared and hammered her almost brutally, inhumanly fast, accelerating the engine hard one final time.</p><p class="western">“<em>MEGAMIIIIND!</em>” she screamed so loudly it hurt.</p><p class="western">“YES! YES! <em>FUCK YES!</em> ” his voice boomed through the night as he came hard, pumping streams of semen into her shaking body.</p><p class="western">Megamind finally let up off the engine, and the hoverbike wound down to a smooth purr. They both gulped down air, muscles weak and trembling in the aftermath.</p><p class="western">“Oh… you wicked… wicked man,” Roxanne finally managed between gasps, voice hoarse. “You wonderful… wicked man.”</p><p class="western">He laughed breathlessly behind her. “Did I… Fill your… Order, Sweetheart?”</p><p class="western">“God, yes.”</p><p class="western">He laid a gentle kiss against the back of her neck and leaned back to let her sit up completely. Her body throbbed with sparking aftershocks as he shifted to retrieve something from one of the saddlebags.</p><p class="western">“Water,” he explained, reaching around her to open the bottle and help her lift it to her lips. She was still shaking so badly that it took both of them. She guzzled half the bottle before pulling it away for breath. Megamind waited patiently, then helped her drink the rest. He crushed the bottle in one hand and placed it back into the saddlebag before bringing another out for himself.</p><p class="western">“Let’s go home, Beloved,” he said after disposing of his own bottle.</p><p class="western">“Do you want to… um...” she gestured. Megamind was softening but he wasn't retracting and was still buried inside her.</p><p class="western">“Honestly, I’m not sure I <em>can</em>, not until we’re back on the ground. And I’d really rather not be seen, ah, <em>dismounting</em> in the middle of the dockyard district.”</p><p class="western">“Right,” she laughed. “Well, it’s what?  Only midnight?”</p><p class="western">“A little after, yes.”</p><p class="western">“Then here’s hoping no one is awake at the Lair.”</p><p class="western">Luck was with them, and as Megamind flew the hoverbike through the holographic wall, its engine in stealth mode the quiet the noise, only the brainbots were around to greet and, thankfully, since Olivia had come to live with them, the blue hero had updated the cyborgs’ programming to keep them from making a racket, unless there was cause for alarm, this late at night.</p><p class="western">It was hard enough to keep an eight-year-old asleep as it was.</p><p class="western">With her lovers' help, Roxanne managed to climb out of his lap, and Megamind, standing, fastened his clothes back into place. He waved a few brainbots over.</p><p class="western">“Daddy needs you to clean the hoverbike. Thoroughly.” The little constructs hurried quietly away to fetch supplies while their master retrieved the thermos and a food storage container still mostly filled with chocolate strawberries. </p><p class="western">He held out his prizes for examination and offered his lover a boyish grin.  “Would you care to join me for a bedroom picnic and a chapter of The Hogfather before we sleep?”</p><p class="western">Roxanne smiled.  Since she was currently assigned to cover the Vulcan case, her workday wouldn't start until Megamind's did, and, aside from calls to duty, the blue hero set his own hours.  It was one of the perks of being a Defender.</p><p class="western">“That sounds amazing,” she agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Morning Routines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Roxanne was awakened by a sound like an angry cat singing off-key soprano.</p><p class="western">“Sorry!” Olivia’s voice called through a hidden speaker on the wall.  "I forgot the transmitter was on!"</p><p class="western">Megamind’s room might have been soundproof, but, concerned over the possibility of emergencies and alerts, he’d installed a monitoring system so that he and Roxanne were aware of what was happening in the communal spaces of the Lair.</p><p class="western">Turning on his side, the hero pressed one of the rosettes carved into his dark-wood nightstand. “That’s alright, Livy,” he assured her. “We need to get up anyway.  How is violin practice going?”</p><p class="western">"Um, I think I'm getting better?" the eight-year-old didn't sound entirely convinced.  "Is Miss Roxanne awake, too?"</p><p class="western">Megamind gently nudged his lover and got a complaining noise in response.</p><p class="western">"I think we're still working on that," he chuckled.</p><p class="western">“Want me to play that part again?” the girl offered cheerily. She was absorbing entirely too much of her adopted father’s wry humor.</p><p class="western">Beside the blue man, Roxanne groaned into her pillow.</p><p class="western">“Not without coffee for your mother, I think. Otherwise, I might not survive,” he responded into what appeared to be a blank wall. He’d insisted on hiding the device, stating that Olivia would, after all, be a teenager someday.</p><p class="western">“Heaven knows I would have disabled something like this when I was an adolescent if there had been anyone who cared whether I was sneaking out,” he’d explained.  "Prison breaks excluded, of course."</p><p class="western">Their little girl was, for now at least, still all lively helpfulness. “I’ll make sure Uncle Minion has some ready!” she chirped. They could hear her calling from a greater distance, probably near the kitchen: “Uncle Minion, Daddy Megamind says Miss Roxanne needs coffee or she’ll die!”</p><p class="western">The henchfish responded with something pleasant they couldn’t quite understand.</p><p class="western">Roxanne sat up and rubbed her eyes.</p><p class="western">Her fiancé watched her closely for a moment, brows slightly drawn, before he finally asked: “Beloved? Is that… does it bother you?”</p><p class="western">“Does what?”</p><p class="western">He looked a little uncomfortable, as if he half-wished he hadn’t spoken.</p><p class="western">“I’m ‘Daddy Megamind’ while you’re ‘Miss Roxanne.’ Does that bother you? Because I don’t want you to feel—I don’t know—left out, I suppose?”</p><p class="western">She smiled, although it felt slightly wilted around the edges. “I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t sting just a little sometimes, but I understand.”</p><p class="western">“I can talk to her if you like.”</p><p class="western">“No, no, that’s not necessary, Darling. Really. I don’t want her to feel like we’re pushing her. She’ll call me Mom when she’s ready.”</p><p class="western">His green eyes became tender. “I’m sure she will. Even so…” he trailed off with a helpless gesture.</p><p class="western">“I know, Megamind, and I appreciate it, but you don’t need to worry,” she stood and stretched. “I really do understand. I mean, she had a good mother, even if the woman <em>did</em> have terrible taste in men, but her choices for father figures, until recently, were between an abusive prick and a murderer. It’s only natural she would subconsciously accept you as her father quicker.”</p><p class="western">He wrapped his arms around her from behind, cradling her against him, and kissed her cheek. “You’re a wonderful woman, Roxanne Ritchi. I love you.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.” She laid her hands over his, and let her head lean back against his shoulder for a moment. “I need a shower,” she said at last.</p><p class="western">“That makes two of us. Shall I scrub your back?”</p><p class="western">“That would make you my hero,” she chuckled.</p><p class="western">“Ah, and here I thought I already was.”</p><p class="western">“Silly.” She turned in his arms and pecked his mouth. “Fine. That will make you my extra heroic hero,” she grinned. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up so I can get some coffee before I fall over.”</p><p class="western">“Oh, I can do better than that.” He strode over and unlocked the door, then grabbed his holowatch from the nightstand. “Brainbots, bring Mommy a mug of coffee to the bathroom, one teaspoon of sugar, two bloops of chocolate creamer. Be sure to close the doors when you leave.”</p><p class="western">“Bloops?” Roxanne giggled.</p><p class="western">“Yes, bloops,” he turned to grin at her. “It’s a <em>very</em> scientific term.”</p><p class="western">“Uh-huh. Okay, then.”</p><p class="western">“Why, Beloved, you don’t sound entirely convinced!” His smile turned wicked. “I’m not going to have to tickle you again, am I?”</p><p class="western">“Do it and I’ll bite you!”</p><p class="western">“Ooh, is that a promise?”</p><p class="western">“Careful, or we’ll never get clean. Come on, let’s get into the shower before the coffee delivery shows up.”</p><p class="western">"Yes, I suppose we'd better if we want to have time to spar this morning."</p><p class="western">Roxanne stifled a groan.  Keeping in fighting shape was important and she knew it.  Otherwise, she would be a risk to herself and a liability to him.  Training was, she reminded herself, a small price to pay for being with the man she loved, but that didn't mean she had to like it on mornings when she would much rather stay cuddled up in bed with a certain blue alien.</p><p class="western">The alien in question was grinning at her now.  "Oh, come on, at least I've ensured you'll be caffeinated first."</p><p class="western">"Hmmm," she agreed around a yawn.  "But some of us don't function well on only four hours of sleep."</p><p class="western">"I'm sorry, Sweetheart.  We'll try to go to bed early tonight.  Maybe we can even get home in time for you to take an afternoon nap."</p><p class="western">She smiled sleepily at him.  "It's alright.  Totally worth it.  And I'll feel better after coffee and a shower.  But if the coffee part doesn't happen soon, you may have to hold me up."</p><p class="western">He laughed, rich and dark.  Roxanne squeaked in surprise as the room suddenly tilted and she found herself effortlessly cradled in her boyfriend's deceptively thin arms.</p><p class="western">"I can do that, Dearest,” he said.</p><hr/><p class="western">Feeling like a person again, Roxanne made her way toward the promising smells of warm bread, sugar, frying sausage, and more coffee. Megamind, always quicker to dress even without the aid of the brainbots, was already downstairs, and she could hear he and Olivia laughing. Entering the dining room, she found her lover doing a passable impression of an old movie zombie, arms outstretched and legs stomping stiffly around the table.</p><p class="western">“Coffee!” he groaned in a deep monotone. “Coffeeee!”</p><p class="western">Sitting at the table, the little girl giggled again.</p><p class="western">“Oh, well,” Roxanne announced, entering the room. “Megamind’s joined the ranks of the living dead. I guess we’d better revive him.”</p><p class="western">She moved toward the coffee bar set up on a side table. Minion, bless him, had set up matching “caffeination stations,” as Megamind called them, in the dining room and workroom to ensure the “elixir of life,” (another Megamind-ism) was always close at hand.</p><p class="western">Refilling her own mug as well as one for Megamind—the latter a dark blue displaying molecular structure of caffeine in white—she doctored both to their drinkers’ specifications, trying not to wince inwardly as she added the sixth spoonful of sugar to her lover’s cup.</p><p class="western">“What flavor today, Rob Zombie?”</p><p class="western">He didn’t break character. “Caaarameeeel!”</p><p class="western">She reached into the mini-fridge for the creamer and added it, along with extra whipped cream.</p><p class="western">“Here’s your magic restorative potion,” she handed Megamind his cup, and he took a grateful sip.</p><p class="western">“I’M ALIVE!” He announced in an excellent impersonation of Colin Clive’s mad doctor.</p><p class="western">“Mixing your movie references, aren’t you?” Roxanne laughed.</p><p class="western">“Such a critic!” he took another swallow.  "Just for that, Miss Ritchi, you owe me a kiss!”</p><p class="western">“Ew!” Olivia covered her face. Megamind rolled his own green eyes at her, though she couldn’t see it, and pulled his lover close to press his lips to hers.</p><p class="western">Minion clomped in from the kitchen carrying a tray. “Hey! None of that in the dining room, Sir!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne suspected the fish was only half-joking. He still hadn’t forgotten the table incident.</p><p class="western">“Minion,” the blue hero protested dryly.</p><p class="western">“You have a busy schedule today, Sir, and your breakfast is getting cold.”</p><p class="western">Nothing short of the sidekick’s excellent cuisine could have pulled the reporter out of her blue boyfriend’s arms, but the tempting aromas were enough to make her stomach rumble insistently.</p><p class="western">Megamind smiled at her and, releasing her from his embrace, pulled out her usual chair.</p><p class="western">“What has the Master of All Cookery prepared this morning?”</p><p class="western">Minion started setting out plates. “Vanilla Brioche French Toast with Blueberry Compote, Grilled Sausages in Creamed Onion Sauce, and Apple and Pear Salad.”</p><p class="western">“That sounds fantastic! Do you have everything gathered for shool, Livy?”</p><p class="western">Mouth full of French toast, the girl answered with a series of expressive humming noises, and her adopted father raised an eyebrow at her. Roxanne snickered. Megamind was forever reminding Olivia not to talk with her mouth full, and the latter had seized the opportunity for a little sarcasm.</p><p class="western">She was definitely taking on too much of the blue hero’s humor.</p><p class="western">“I’m going to take that as a yes,” the alien in question smiled. “Roxanne and I will drop you off on our way back to the Jo.”</p><p class="western">Olivia swallowed so she could ask: “on the hoverbikes?”</p><p class="western">She loved riding the small aircrafts both for the thrill and for the jealous awe it inspired in other students.</p><p class="western">Often, if Megamind was going to pick her up in the afternoon, he sent word ahead and arrived to find a group of children waiting, all eager to beg a short ride. Roxanne had had to insist that he ensure each had permission first—her lover sometimes seemed to forget about little details like parental approval—but provided that that was in order, she was happy to take a few of their daughter’s classmates up as well. Not that she had any delusions about a flight with her being anything less than second-place. Everybody wanted to be able to say they’d ridden with the Defender himself. She’d half-expected that to bother her, but it never did. The reporter was far too pleased by the frankly adorable sight of her lover being swarmed by hopeful children, his smile bright enough to practically glow. And it wasn’t as if anyone was ever particularly disappointed. In the end, a hoverbike ride was still a hoverbike ride.</p><p class="western">“Of course!” Megamind was responding after another drink from his mug. “What fun would it be otherwise?”</p><p class="western">Olivia made a sound of delight.</p><p class="western">“You can ride with me this time,” Roxanne added as casually as she could. Her fiancé gave her a knowing grin, and she fought not to blush. It was going to be a while before she could view <em>his</em> hoverbike in quite the same way.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Questions and Convicts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Roxanne was grateful for the relaxed and enjoyable morning they had shared.  The rest of the day was, unfortunately, far less pleasant. At the resort, they had the uncomfortable duty of interviewing HeatWave, who was still incredibly emotional over his mentor’s death. They got very little out of him besides repeated rhetorical questions.</p><p class="western">“Why?” he asked again and again. “Why did it have to be like this?”</p><p class="western">Neither Roxanne nor her lover had a good answer, and the reporter was all too aware that any comfort they could offer was so cold as to be nearly useless.</p><p class="western">“Do you think he knows more than he’s saying?” Megamind asked after the other man left the room.</p><p class="western">“I can’t tell,” his companion admitted. “I mean, he was twitchy and uncomfortable, but I can’t tell you how much of that was because he was distraught.”</p><p class="western">“My thoughts exactly,” the hero sighed. “I was really hoping for <em>something</em>. He knew Vulcan best.”</p><p class="western">“He did seem pretty upset about the wine.”</p><p class="western">“True, but he must have known that his Defender had a problem. No one likes to focus on the faults of their dearly departed.” He drew another deep breath. “We’ll have to question him again. I doubt a couple of days will make much difference, but maybe he’ll be in a better frame of mind next time.”</p><p class="western">“Maybe,” Roxanne agreed. She wished she believed it.</p><p class="western">Vash Kapoor, who was next on their schedule, was at least more forthcoming, but she was able to offer little information besides confirming the suspicion that Vulcan had made unwanted advances toward her.</p><p class="western">“I found out later that he had claimed I had allowed him certain favors,” she explained. “I even heard him talking about it, saying that I had ‘lived up to the name Speed Demon.’ He told some of the others that I was ‘fast’ and a ‘she-devil in bed.’ It wasn’t true. I never let him touch me.”</p><p class="western">“That must have been very upsetting,” Megamind offered sympathetically.</p><p class="western">“It was. My parents are very traditional in many ways, and it would have hurt them if they thought I was behaving like that.”</p><p class="western">“What did you do about it?”</p><p class="western">“I went to BrightShield and explained what was happening. I was surprised, given Vulcan’s reputation, that no one had complained before. President BrightShield asked me questions about what he had said and done, and explained that he would do what he could, but that it would be difficult. Vulcan was not stupid, and he was very careful to only make suggestive comments, but not to say anything too inappropriate.” She shrugged. “In a way, his false bragging was a good thing. Without it, I do not think anything could have been done.”</p><p class="western">“But there was action taken against Mason Wyatt?”</p><p class="western">“Yes. Vulcan was very angry about that. He claimed I was lying, and that made me angry, too.” She looked uncomfortable. “This is all… Privileged information, correct?”</p><p class="western">“It is.”</p><p class="western">She nodded. “I went to a… Well, a <em>ladies’ doctor</em>, and allowed myself to be examined to prove that I was untouched. That was enough for BrightShield. He placed Vulcan under probation.”</p><p class="western">“When was this?”</p><p class="western">“Two years ago.”</p><p class="western">“I see. Forgive me, but the probation doesn’t seem to have done much good. I saw the way he spoke to you.”</p><p class="western">She shrugged again. “At least he was not so suggestive. But yes, he did not give up. I think that he may have viewed me as a challenge.”</p><p class="western">“That can’t have been easy.”</p><p class="western">“It was irritating, but I spend my days fighting supervillains and being shot at by criminals. By that measure, Vulcan was a problem, but only a very small one. He was not telling lies about me any longer, and my parents would not think I was doing something to shame them. That was enough for me.”</p><p class="western">“A Defender’s life does have a way of making daily problems seem trivial,” Megamind agreed. “Still, what he did wasn’t right, and I’m sorry you endured it.”</p><p class="western">Knowing her lover as well as she did, Roxanne could see that, while his empathy was sincere, he was also hoping that it might prompt Vashantha into sharing confidences she might otherwise withhold.</p><p class="western">“Now, I am trying to gather as much information as possible about anything unusual or out of place shortly before Vulcan’s death. When was the last time you were in his room?”</p><p class="western">“Never! I was very careful never to do anything that might make people think there had been truth in what he said!”</p><p class="western">“Of course,” the blue hero said gently. “I don’t mean that you would have been there with him, naturally, but were you ever there alone or with HeatWave? Dropping off a lost item or looking for someone, perhaps? Please understand,” he soothed in response to her look, “I’m not suggesting anything… untoward, but I need to know if you saw anything strange.”</p><p class="western">“No. I never went to his room for any reason. If I had found a lost item to return or something of that kind, I would have sent someone else with it. Another man. Like I said, I was careful.”</p><p class="western">“I don’t blame you. Did you see or hear anything before his death that now strikes you as unusual?”</p><p class="western">She thought for a long moment.</p><p class="western">“I cannot think of anything. Even so, I do not think his death was unconnected. I do not know that this was Karma—it seems harsh that a man should die because he was flirtatious, and as far as I know, he never forced himself on any woman—but I am not the only one he pursued. The more I think about this, the more I think that he must have been killed by a jealous lover.”</p><p class="western">“Anyone in particular?”</p><p class="western">“No,” she said slowly. “KnightHawke did not like him, of course, but he does not have the reputation of being a violent man. In fact, he is known for having an even temper.”</p><p class="western">“I’ve noticed. He always seems to be the one trying to keep his wife’s emotions in check.”</p><p class="western">“They say opposites attract, and it must be true for them.”</p><p class="western">“What about the red wine?”</p><p class="western">“Red wine?”</p><p class="western">“Did Vulcan try to bring you a bottle?”</p><p class="western">“No. Since the probation, he never did anything so obvious. Why? Has someone said that he did?”</p><p class="western">Megamind glanced at his lover, and she nodded slightly. He looked back at Vash. “No,” he answered. “But I am going to share something with you that we haven’t told anyone else. There was a wine bottle in his room. And it seems he had two glasses. It’s possible he either expected company or meant to approach someone himself.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne was impressed by the way her blue boyfriend had smoothly arranged facts and reasonable suppositions in such a way that they painted a completely different story.</p><p class="western">“If it were not for the two glasses, I would say the wine was only for him. He drank too much. I am sure you know this by now.”</p><p class="western">“Indeed I do.”</p><p class="western">“If someone was drinking wine with him, it may have been Sparrow Hawke. She said that she had stopped seeing him, but Black Cat said that that was not true. But it could have been someone else.”</p><p class="western">“Any idea who?”</p><p class="western">“On Friday evening, I passed Vulcan in the hall on the way to my room. He was unlocking his door and was speaking on his cell phone. I did not hear much because I was not really paying attention, but I did hear him say a woman’s name.”</p><p class="western">“What was it?”</p><p class="western">“Melissa, I think?” she considered for a moment. “Yes, I am sure that was it. Melissa.”</p><p class="western">“Thank you, Defender Speed Demon,” Megamind said, standing to escort her out. “You’ve been very helpful.”</p><p class="western">They were empty words, and Roxanne knew it. Her fiancé obviously did, too, because when he closed the door and returned, he slumped into his chair, large head falling against the backrest, and let out a long breath.</p><p class="western">“This is <em>useless! </em>” he groaned. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack, and someone keeps piling on more straw! Do you have any idea how many women named Melissa there are in this city?!”</p><p class="western">“I’m not sure I want to know,” his lover commiserated. “I don’t suppose it’s possible she checked in with the front desk when she arrived?”</p><p class="western">He grinned at her. “I <em>knew</em> I loved you for a reason! Yes! With the security measures I had in place, someone would have had to let her into this section of the hotel!”</p><p class="western">“Then let’s go check with the front desk.”</p><p class="western">Their excitement was, unfortunately, short-lived. The hotel manager ruefully informed them that, yes, a woman had come to see Vulcan, but the now-deceased hero had come down to let her in himself. At least he had been able to tell them that Melissa was medium height with curly brown hair and light skin.</p><p class="western">Upon seeing Megamind’s dour expression, the other man quickly added: “I’ve backed up and kept all the surveillance footage from the past week. I can show it to you.”</p><p class="western">The blue hero brightened and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a strident beeping from his holowatch.</p><p class="western">“Armed robbery in progress!” he said, checking the display. “I have to go. Can you make me a copy? Excellent! I’ll send a brainbot by tomorrow morning to pick it up.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne followed her lover out to the hoverbikes, running to keep up.</p><p class="western">“I want you to go back home and see if any of your contacts have heard anything about a woman connected with Vulcan matching the description we have!” he said as he mounted up.</p><p class="western">“And miss you in action?”</p><p class="western">“Sweetheart—”</p><p class="western">“I need a story, Megamind. You know I do.”</p><p class="western">“I know, but let me explain: when I called this a mere armed robbery, I was less than honest.”</p><p class="western">“What? Why?”</p><p class="western">“It’s Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb.” Those were his nicknames for villainous brothers widely known as The Conductor and The Destructor. “You know I don’t want you around members of the Doom Syndicate. It’s far too risky.”</p><p class="western">“But—”</p><p class="western">“Darling, please, I don’t want you being kidnapped.” He swung himself onto his hoverbike.</p><p class="western">“Oh, gee, wouldn’t <em>that</em> be new and unusual.”</p><p class="western">He rolled his eyes. “When I abducted you, I never actually meant you any harm. In fact, I went out of my way to prevent it. The Doom Syndicate would be a completely different story. Please,” he said again as she opened her mouth to argue. “Do this for me.”</p><p class="western">“You know the station is going to send me out there anyway.”</p><p class="western">“Yes, but you won’t be in the thick of things.” He kicked the aircraft into gear, then leaned down to kiss her. “Please, Beloved. I can’t do my job if I’m too busy worrying about whether you’re safe. I’ll make sure you get footage.”</p><p class="western">There wasn’t much she could say to that. “Yes,” Roxanne sighed. “Alright. Be careful.”</p><p class="western">“Always. I love you.”</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.”</p><p class="western">He nodded, then spoke into his watch. “Brainbots! Available units to First Bank of Metrocity on Main Street! Prepare for Level One Presentation! I need three camerabots recording footage for Mommy!” he grinned. “Let’s make Kyuss’s Green Machine the soundtrack for this one!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a well-known metal song, but the lyrics about “shutting down your greed for green” were certainly fitting.</p><p class="western">In the end, she and Megamind were both right about her position in the fight. No sooner had she called in the event than her boss, Harold told her to rush over and cover it, but, as Megamind had predicted, she wasn’t able to get close to the action. She didn’t even get a good look at the brothers until they were marched out of the bank, bound and surrounded by brainbots, Megamind behind them with his De-Gun trained on their backs.</p><p class="western">Cameras flashed, and The Conductor, in his tailcoat and top hat, grimaced.</p><p class="western">“Oh, lovely,” he sneered at his brother. “More photos of you with that stupid cone on your head. I told you not to wear that damned thing!”</p><p class="western">“I gotta wear the cone,” the other villain, a man with the size and IQ of a mountain, protested in a slow, deep voice. “I’m the Destruction Worker. Get it?” He laughed like a donkey in slow motion.</p><p class="western">“I’ve told you, it’s not <em>Destruction Worker</em>, it’s <em>The Destructor!</em> Conductor and Destructor!”</p><p class="western">“Oh, sorry Barry.”</p><p class="western">“<em>DON’T CALL ME BARRY IN FRONT OF PEOPLE!</em>” The Conductor hissed.</p><p class="western">“Alright, children, that’s enough,” Megamind smirked. “Kiss and make up.”</p><p class="western">The Destruction Worker—Roxanne had already decided she was going to use that in the story just to needle them—actually leaned clumsily down toward his brother, making the other jerk back so suddenly he almost overbalanced.</p><p class="western">“Stop that, damn it!”</p><p class="western">“But the man said—”</p><p class="western">“Shut up, Carl!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne looked a question at Glenda, a big Viking of a woman who worked as her sound tech, and the latter nodded. Beside her, Andro gave his friend a quick thumbs-up without ever taking his attention from the camera. They’d gotten the whole exchange.</p><p class="western">Nodding back, the reporter smiled. It wasn’t often she got this kind of opportunity. Usually, the pair would have already been reduced to little glowing cubes in a plastic bag, but where the Doom Syndicate was involved, people expected more of a show. Roxanne suspected it made them feel safer to see for themselves members of the infamous group were back behind bars.</p><p class="western">The crowd gathered behind the police barriers certainly seemed appreciative, cheering and hooting as The Conductor and The Destructor were half-dragged toward a reinforced, high-tech prison transport personally retrofitted by Megamind.</p><p class="western">“Turn ‘em blue!” one man shouted. It had become local slang for when the Defender of Metro City dehydrated someone. Others were quick to take up the call, and soon hundreds of voices were chanting it.</p><p class="western">“Turn them blue! Turn them blue!”</p><p class="western">Dedicated to presentation and playing to the crowd though he might be, Megamind also had a certain sense of decorum he never broke. Pushing his broach insignia to activate the hidden microphone, he responded.</p><p class="western">“Now, now, they’ve already received a thorough and humiliating defeat. No need to add insult to injury.”</p><p class="western">Reporters, Roxanne among them, called out questions as the brothers were loaded. Her lover answered a couple of others before turning his green gaze on her. While it was true that everyone knew they were engaged, he was careful never to appear bias in official matters.</p><p class="western">“Yes, Miss Ritchi?”</p><p class="western">“What were The Conductor and Destruction Worker trying to steal today?”</p><p class="western">“It’s <em>Destructor! </em>” the smaller criminal shouted over his shoulder.</p><p class="western">Brief humor flashed through Megamind’s eyes. “It appears that they were after something kept in one of the highest-security vaults. They did not succeed.”</p><p class="western">“May I ask a follow-up question?” Roxanne hated putting him on the spot like this—if he said yes, people would say he was playing favorites, while if he said no, they’d have to deal with a week worth of tabloid headlines suggesting there was “trouble in paradise”— but she was a professional, and she had to get the story.</p><p class="western">Her lover raised one eyebrow, but he smiled. “You know I always try to be even-handed, but I’ll make an exception this once. What would you like to know?”</p><p class="western">“Can you tell us what, specifically, was in the vault Destruction Worker and his brother tried to access?”</p><p class="western">“Ah. No, I’m afraid I can’t. It’s high-security in more ways than one.”</p><p class="western">It was a good answer, telling Roxanne what she really wanted to know while making it seem as if her follow-up had been useless, thus reducing the risk that everyone else would expect one, too. Probably only half of the gathered journalists would now.</p><p class="western">“Hey, Defender!” someone bellowed. “If you’re not going to turn them blue, at least kiss the girl!”</p><p class="western">Megamind pretended not to hear and called on the next journalist before the crowd could start chanting the new request. Roxanne was momentarily grateful that her lover thought so quickly on his feet. Neither of them cared much about reasonable public displays of affection. (That was one antique rule of behavior that, thank goodness, Megamind <em>didn’t</em> feel the need to observe.) They were both also completely unbothered if someone happened to capture a candid shot of them on a date, but they nonetheless didn’t like putting their relationship on display. Not only was it <em>theirs</em>—a deeply personal and sincere affection which they steadfastly refused to turn into a tawdry PR stunt—but it would look completely inappropriate to act the part of the Happy Couple on live TV while in the middle of a widely-publicized murder investigation. Their best course was to redirect attention.</p><p class="western">If the question posed by Ron Thompson of WMCB had been particularly engaging, it might have even worked.</p><p class="western">Unfortunately, what he asked was: “Exactly why is it high security?”</p><p class="western">“Because it’s top secret.”</p><p class="western">“Then how did The Conductor and Destruction Worker know what was there?”</p><p class="western">By this point, one section of the crowd had begun sing-shouting a line from Disney’s The Little Mermaid.</p><p class="western">“Come on and kiss the girl! Come on and kiss the girl!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne inwardly cringed. Her blue boyfriend had already denied one request; refusing a second in a row was going to seem churlish, and they needed public opinion on their side right now. Besides, openly refusing would, once again, result in unpleasant headlines as well as, quite possibly, unwanted probing into their personal lives.</p><p class="western">She was really, <em>really</em> regretting asking that follow-up question.</p><p class="western">Thankfully, The Conductor, who was still struggling against the cops trying to push him into the transport, chose that moment to explode.</p><p class="western">“Damn it, it’s <em>DESTRUCTOR!</em> The hero’s pussy doesn’t get to rename—”</p><p class="western">“<em>What did you just say?</em> ” Megamind’s voice was coolly composed, almost casual, but there was no mistaking the anger in it.</p><p class="western">The Conductor suddenly seemed to decide he wanted a ride to jail after all, but the hero wasn’t going to let him off that easily.</p><p class="western">“I asked you a question,” his voice was stony as he turned toward the criminal. “Brainbots, bring him over here.”</p><p class="western">The cyborgs, bowging in a way that seemed entirely too cheerful, obeyed.</p><p class="western">“Well, People of Metrocity,” Megamind announced, unholstering his De-Gun and grinning darkly. “It looks like you get your wish after all.”</p><p class="western">He took aim, and a moment later a blue cube clinked to the ground. It bothered Roxanne a little how wildly the crowd cheered. True, the man wasn’t actually hurt, but it still seemed like the same mentality that had likely led some of their ancestors to cheer at executions.</p><p class="western">But at least no one was demanding a public make-out session anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Complications</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">By that evening Roxanne almost wished they <em>had</em> chosen to lock lips in front of a crowd. She thought she’d considered every possible angle, but despite being engaged to the city’s hero, she’d never been at the center of a murder investigation before.</p><p class="western">“Defender Megamind’s temperamental display yesterday has some people asking pointed questions,” a reporter for one of the rival news stations was explaining on a feed displayed on one of the giant monitors. “We interviewed several concerned citizens. We have City Councilwoman Melanie Greer with us. Ms. Greer, I understand that you have some concerns?”</p><p class="western">A sleek middle-aged woman appeared on the screen. She was well dressed in a suit that Roxanne was almost certain had been tailored. “Much though I appreciate all the Defender does for Metro City, I feel I have to question his behavior. If a comment is enough to make him dehydrate somebody, it may reveal a volatile side of his personality.”</p><p class="western">“Do you believe this could be an issue for our local hero going forward?”</p><p class="western">“Well, I certainly think that it may cause some of the public to revisit their assumptions about his involvement with certain recent events.</p><p class="western">“And what are your feelings on the subject, Councilwoman?”</p><p class="western">The older woman smiled. “I haven’t formed any sort of opinion yet. I am leaving that in the capable hands of our city’s professionals.”</p><p class="western">Roxanne turned off the feed with a huff. “That… horrible woman,” she said. It was an unfulfilling insult, but since adopting Olivia, she’d been trying to break herself of cursing. It was impossible to know when the little girl would pop up.</p><p class="western">“It’s not so bad, though, is it?” asked Minion.</p><p class="western">“Possibly worse,” Megamind stated flatly. “It might have actually been better if she’d been openly hostile toward me; at least that would have prompted a backlash from my fans.”</p><p class="western">“This whole ‘voice of reason’ act is more likely to get people to listen,” Roxanne agreed. “I’m so sorry, Love,” she added to Megamind. “I didn’t think this would happen.”</p><p class="western">“Juggling public opinion is always a balancing act; we’re bound to make a misstep now and then,” the blue man eyed the blank monitor thoughtfully. “I’ve men Councilwoman Greer before. She’s not this bright. Someone else is coaching her.”</p><p class="western">“And I think we all know who,” Roxanne agreed.</p><p class="western">“Um?” offered Minion uncertainly.</p><p class="western">His friend turned to face him. “Lady Smith. It has to be. Melanie Greer is part of her circle, and Lady Smith still blames me for her husband’s death. I always wondered whether she was simply so naively faithful she blinded herself to Lord Smith’s activity, so deep in denial she convinced herself it wasn’t there, or perhaps so smart that her empty-headed socialite persona was all an act covering the active role she played in her husband’s ‘business.’ I suppose now I may have my answer.”</p><p class="western">“Maybe,” Minion said slowly. “Salome Smith has been in some of my cooking classes, you know. She’s a nice lady, but she’s… well, she’s never struck me as being very intellectual. Besides, she’s still mourning, but she’s never really seemed <em>angry</em>. And she knows who I am and who I work for. Everyone as MCSCA does.”</p><p class="western">MCSCA, or “McSca” as the henchfish pronounced it, was the Metro City School of Culinary Arts, where Minion had begun availing himself of some of the non-curricular classes last spring. He’d been nervous the first time he’d attended an Asian Cooking Course Megamind had signed him up for as a Christmas gift, but before long he’d started making friends and stopped even bothering to disguise himself with his holowatch. Lately, Megamind had been trying to convince him that he might as well enroll properly and get a full culinary arts degree. Now that the city embraced the two aliens, there was no reason Minion couldn’t pursue his lifelong dream of opening a gourmet catering company.</p><p class="western">It suddenly occurred to Roxanne that whoever was targeting her blue lover was going to hurt other people close to him, too, Minion chief among them. That thought made her even more furious.</p><p class="western">And it was definitely “whoever” because, while the aquatic henchman might not share his master’s genius, he was an excellent judge of character. If he said Lady Smith couldn’t be behind this plot, they had to rethink their assumptions.</p><p class="western">Megamind seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion. “I believe you,” he told his friend. “But we can’t afford to leave any path of inquiry untrodden. Someone could still be using Lady Smith to get to Councilwoman Greer.” He sighed. “We really didn’t need yet another layer added to this mystery. The sooner we solve this case, the happier I’ll be.”</p><p class="western">“We also have to consider that Detective Sergeant Keto could be involved,” Roxanne reminded them. “I haven’t been able to dig up anything particularly interesting on him so far, but I <em>did</em> find out that he tried, unsuccessfully, to get you pulled from this investigation.”</p><p class="western">“Now why would a police detective want to refuse help from his local Defender?” Megamind mused. “Especially when we were on reasonably amicable terms a year ago? I think Andersen was right. Someone must be leaning on him.”</p><p class="western">“And if I can’t find anything blackmail-worthy, then it would have to be someone with enough political clout to either help or hinder his career,” Roxanne nodded.</p><p class="western">“I could talk to Lady Smith,” Minion offered. “She’s in my French Pastry Class. Like you say, someone might be using her. Maybe I can find out who.”</p><p class="western">“That’s a fantastic idea, Filet Minon!” Megamind responded. “Do it and report back as soon as—”</p><p class="western">A strident beeping from his watch interrupted him.</p><p class="western">“Gas attack at the zoo!” he said, checking his watch. He headed for the privacy curtain. “Brainbots! Bring Daddy’s gear and gas mask!”</p><p class="western">Rock and Roll is the Law rang from the Defender’s cell phone, and Roxanne could hear her lover answering from behind the obscuring cloth. “Simmons. I just got the alert. Give me the details. Uh-huh. Oh really? Does he? Well, now, he may find that he regrets this little business transaction. Yes. Thank you. Try to keep them contained. I’ll be there soon.”</p><p class="western">He stepped out from around the curtain, his usual black spiky battle gear in place.</p><p class="western">“What’s up?” Roxanne asked.</p><p class="western">“Looks like Psycho-Dellic’s work. Everyone at the zoo got dosed with a strange, airborne substance, and now they’re all behaving like animals, figuratively speaking. It’s as if all inhibitions keeping people’s basest instincts in check have been removed. Psycho says he’ll only provide the antidote for a price. We’ll see about that! I suppose your station will want you to cover this?” He added to Roxanne. While the hero sometimes let his lover accompany him, thereby ensuring her the best scoop on his latest triumph, he drew the line at her interacting with members of the Doom Syndicate. They were, he insisted, far too dangerous. However, while he wouldn’t let her take part in the fight, he also wouldn’t stop her from doing her job.</p><p class="western">“Probably. I’m expecting Harold to call any moment.”</p><p class="western">He nodded. “Just be careful. I’ve made a mask for you as well. Brainbots!”</p><p class="western">The little cyborgs brought a mouthguard and inconspicuous nasal insert to Roxanne. Although the device didn’t look much like a gas mask, the reporter knew it was better than anything any military could boast. (Megamind had explained to her how it worked—something about photo-catalytic materials and molecular air filtration— but she had only understood perhaps one word out of three.) The robotic drones began to fasten similar gear around their master’s head, but the blue hero stopped them. “Not just yet,” he said, and, bounding over to Roxanne, swung her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly.</p><p class="western">“I love you, Roxanne Ritchi,” he said, pulling away.</p><p class="western">“I love you, too.” She kissed him once more. “Please be careful, Darling.”</p><p class="western">“As careful as I can be. Brainbots! Help Mommy and Daddy put their masks on!” he turned to his lover as the little cyborgs obediently helped her fasten her own device on. “These are made from a clear, multi-level filtration material I’ve recently invented, and use photocatalytic oxidation as well as an advanced ionization system to purify air. Do not take it off, even if your station demands it. This one is for Andro,” he handed her another identical mask. “I’ve got to go.”</p><p class="western">Megamind pecked his lover’s mouth one more time before rushing to his hoverbike, cloak sweeping behind him.</p><p class="western">Three brainbots, well accustomed to this routine, flew over the second-story banister: one carrying a suit, the second a collarless silk blouse and a pair of heeled pumps, and the third a makeup bag and a mirror.</p><p class="western">Roxanne’s phone rang just as she stepped into the privacy curtain, and she answered without even checking the display. “Harold? Yes, I’ve heard. I’m getting ready to go right now.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Trouble in Triplicate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">The zoo was chaos. People were running everywhere, screaming, jumping, and throwing things like sugar-high children.  A woman who couldn’t be a day under fifty had clambered onto the roof of one of the low buildings and was shouting a song while she performed a rather lewd dance. Below her, several men alternated between whistling and throwing trash at her.  In front of the souvenir shop, what had probably started as a simple argument had turned into an all-out brawl. Displays were knocked over and scattered, and a stuffed toy had been ripped apart. Other patrons were taking advantage of the distraction to make off with bags full of merchandise. Not that it seemed to matter. Roxanne was pretty sure the shop’s employee was the one standing on top of the counter loudly singing: “take this job and shove it!” into a loudspeaker.  Several children were swimming in the big fountain while others raided a concession stand.  Inside a nearby enclosure, a businessman was riding a giraffe.</p><p class="western">“How did he even get up there?” Andro asked loudly enough to be heard. “Look out!” he added as he dodged something brown that splattered the pavement just to his left.</p><p class="western">“I hope that’s not—” Roxanne called back over the noise.</p><p class="western">“I think it’s double-chocolate! In-coming!”</p><p class="western">Roxanne had to jump and duck sideways to avoid a pink blob that had been aimed at her head. It was followed by shouts of laughter.</p><p class="western">Twopreteens had turned an ice cream cart and a couple of upturned benches into a fort.</p><p class="western">“Roxie!” Andro jerked his friend out of the way as a golf cart careened dangerously close. A girl of about fifteen was steering while two other children in the back struggled with something furry.</p><p class="western">“Did they have a <em>wombat?!</em> ” Roxanne asked, wide-eyed.</p><p class="western">“Big M’s got his work cut out for him this time!”</p><p class="western">“Just as long as nobody lets the tigers out!”</p><p class="western">“Oscar Mike Golf, Chica, don’t give them any— SHIT!” he jumped back as a boy who couldn’t have been more than nine, his arms loaded with zoo t-shirts, crashed out of the bushes. A man followed in hot pursuit, screaming threats and pushing Roxanne into her cameraman.</p><p class="western">They moved to a less busy location where Andro could still angle the shot to capture some of the pandemonium behind the reporter.</p><p class="western">“Don’t get me wrong, this is completely insane,” Andro said, setting up his camera. “But I actually thought it was going to be even worse.”</p><p class="western">“This is just the edge of the affected area. Megamind’s been relaying back information when he can. He warned me to stay out of the picnic area unless we want to be the first news agency in history to air an X-rated live broadcast. Apparently, a zoology intern job fair turned into an orgy.”</p><p class="western">“That’s doesn’t sound too different from some of the college frat parties I’ve heard of.”</p><p class="western">“Yeah, but in public? With total strangers? And Megamind’s already had to save <em>six</em> different people who either jumped or were thrown into various enclosures. One poor guy had to be rushed to the hospital after he tried to swim with the polar bears.”</p><p class="western">“Holy shit.”</p><p class="western">“Exactly,” she nodded. “Between the bears’ objections to an uninvited guest and the freezing temperatures of the water, I’m shocked he survived.”</p><p class="western">Andro shuddered. “Roxie, next time I’m at the Lair, remind me to throw myself at your fiancé’s boots in adoring gratitude. I would <em>not</em> want to be out here without this gas mask thingy.”</p><p class="western">“That makes two of us. Are we ready?”</p><p class="western">Andro pressed the communication receiver into his ear to better listen for the station’s signal. “Okay, we are on in three… two… one…” He signaled with one hand, and she began.</p><p class="western">“This is Roxanne Ritchi reporting live from the Metro City Zoo where the patrons have become as wild as the animals thanks to a gas attack believed to be the work of local villain Psycho-Delic. Our city’s Defender is on the scene, and we’re told he has already saved several citizens from serious injury or even death. Nonetheless, as you can see behind me, the scene here is complete chaos. Authorities are warning people to stay away for their own safety while—”</p><p class="western">Electric guitars and drums swept over the other racket, Motley Crue’s Wild Side blaring.</p><p class="western">“It sounds like Defender Megamind has engaged the culprit!” Roxanne announced loudly. Andro angled the camera to capture lasers and smoke that appeared over a line of trees. Several brainbots raced overhead. A boom shook the ground. Scores of people came running and shrieking from the direction of the action.</p><p class="western">Roxanne motioned Andro to follow her as she began carefully moving backward toward the action. Fully panicked, people rushed around them.</p><p class="western">“As you can see, we have patrons fleeing now. Local police have set up a barrier around the perimeter, and are armed with sleeping gas provided by the Defender. However, if you notice your loved one’s behaving strangely, you are urged to restrain them and call the number at the bottom of your screen, especially if they have been at or near the zoo today.”</p><p class="western">Her lover’s amplified voice cackled his trademark evil laugh. “Is that the best you’ve got, Psycho?!” There was another small explosion. “Oooh!” Megamind called. “Trying the same thing again! How original!”</p><p class="western">The crowd thinned as they rounded the corner of the reptile house, Roxanne still reporting. Glancing back, she could make out a familiar figure piloting a huge battle suit from within a glass dome.</p><p class="western">“What’s the matter?!” Megamind’s voice echoed. “Finished playing already?! Aw, what a shame!” The giant mech leaped high and landed with enough force to shake the ground. One of its arms extended firing two blasts of blue energy from a cylinder on its wrist. “Got you!” the hero crowed.</p><p class="western">The music quieted, and moments later the mech disappeared in another dehydrating blast. The sound of the hoverbike starting up roared through the air.</p><p class="western">“It looks as if Defender Megamind has Psycho-Delic in custody,” Roxanne informed her viewers. “Citizens are still being warned to stay away from the area until the contamination is dealt with. We’ll have more on this battle for you today at six.”</p><p class="western">She gestured and Andro shut of the camera just as Megamind sped overhead.</p><p class="western">“Bombs away!” he shouted, throwing something down. There was a loud pop and white, foggy gas exploded through the crowd. People choked and tried vainly to cover their mouths as they collapsed to the ground. It must have been one of his Knock-Out Grenades. The hero roared past, throwing Roxanne a nod. “Brainbots!” he shouted from further down the way they’d come. “Get that woman off the roof! And those kids out of the fountain!”</p><hr/><p class="western">“That,” the blue man said as he drove Roxanne home from the station, “was unquestionably one of the most tedious days of my life.”</p><p class="western">He’d called ahead and picked her up from work that evening, saying that he was finally about to head back himself, and she had to admit that he looked worn.</p><p class="western">“At least your battle was over in record time,” Roxanne offered.</p><p class="western">“That was the easy part, Love. Rounding up all those people, incapacitating everyone, and getting them all out to medical teams was a trial. I am infinitely glad I don’t have to be in charge of figuring out what lost property belongs to who.” He shuddered. “It is going to be a nightmare.”</p><p class="western">“At least you figured out an antidote, and found a way to neutralize the gas in the area, although everything will still have to be thoroughly cleaned.”</p><p class="western">“What, like it was hard? Psycho’s new concoction was nothing more than a combination of MCH, synthetic pheromones, and narcotics designed to block electrical signals to the prefrontal cortex. Not up to his usual standards.”</p><p class="western">He looked grim, and his lover eyed him.</p><p class="western">“That bothers you,” she stated.</p><p class="western">“Yes, it does. Something about this whole battle was… off. Psycho-Delic isn’t exactly brilliant, but he’s not a complete imbecile. Yet today he put himself in a position he <em>knew</em> he couldn’t win. I have to wonder why.”</p><p class="western">“Whatever he’s up to, Darling, we’ll find it out. You, Minion, and I make a pretty good team.”</p><p class="western">He cast her a quick smile. “No,” he answered. “We make an <em>excellent</em> team. The original A-Team, remember? I still pity the fool!”</p><p class="western">She rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “Yeah, okay, Mr. T.”</p><p class="western">“Ha! At last, you admit it!”</p><p class="western">“Maybe I’m just letting you keep your delusions.”</p><p class="western">“Ooh, that is so cruel!” he laughed.</p><p class="western">“Mmm. Well, look at it this way,” she kissed his cheek. “If you were Mr. T, you wouldn’t be the Incredibly Handsome Blue Genius I love.”</p><p class="western">“And I wouldn’t want to be anyone else,” he assured her.</p><p class="western">They’d barely parked the invisible car and disengaged the stealth mode when Minion came hurrying up.</p><p class="western">“Sir! Ma’am! We have a situation!”</p><p class="western">“What’s wrong?” Megamind demanded, swinging out of the car.</p><p class="western">“The brainbots found someone nosing around the area, trying to find your hideout!”</p><p class="western">“Can we be sure that’s what they were looking for?” Roxanne asked as Megamind opened her car door. Even in the midst of a potential crisis, he was still a gentleman to the end.</p><p class="western">“I’m afraid there’s no doubt, Miss Ritchi,” the henchfish responded. “You see, it’s Dirk Olsen.”</p>
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